Feels Like Home
by ChewbaccaIsMyHomeboy
Summary: Isabella has heard his voice nearly her entire life. Now that she's an adult and is moving to England where it all began, she is truly going home. Edward and Bella story. Go on the journey with her as she finds her way to the voice she knows so well.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my first Edward and Bella story. This is going to be an A/U story, but I'm not going to get into the specifics yet on whether it's an A/H story or not. You'll find out when it's time, and until then, you'll gather your own theories! I really hope you like this story, and go easy on me, it's my first! On my profile page, I have links to my playlist for this story and for my Photobucket page with pictures of the castle and England, the characters, etc. With that being said, welcome to Chapter One, and to the beginning of Bella's journey home.

**Chapter One: 'Stole' Mates and Going Home**

"_Isabella."_

The voice whispered to me, beckoning me to come.

"_Isabella, walk with me."_

The voice was comforting, and I was not afraid.

"_Come."_

His voice was the answer to every question. His voice was where I belonged. I knew it as certain as I knew my name.

"_Come,"_ he whispered again in that velvety voice.

I had known him all my life. Every night since I was little, he had visited me inside the violet staircases of my mind. Every night he had followed me, unseen, speaking to me.

Each morning I would remember almost nothing, but he was inside me; he was a part of me.

As if my heart were being ripped from my chest, I felt him slipping away from me as I lost his voice. The green rolling hills and gray skies spun and blurred into a myriad of colors, draining away from me.

I awoke to the sound of my Skype going off on my netbook across the room. My heart was aching for him, and I was once again forced to part with him for another few hours. My only solace was that I knew for certain he would be there, without fail when I closed my eyes tonight.

Throwing my comforter aside, I was met by a chill in the air. Autumn was only beginning, which meant winter was knocking on the door. I absolutely hated winter.

"I'm coming" I complained to no one as my feet hit the carpet and carried me across the room.

Glancing at the screen, I could see it was my second cousin, Rosalie. She lives just outside London, where I would be arriving tomorrow.

I clicked the icon to answer her call, and her voice pierced my quiet room.

"Charlie up yet?" she started in, not cutting any corners.

"I have no idea, I just woke up, Rose." I sounded tired, even to myself. Each morning when I woke, it took a few minutes to adjust to my alternate world: reality.

"Well make sure you get his arse up, my lovely. You have a plane to catch today."

"No shit, Rose. I have plenty of time." This time I sounded tired and cranky.

"Ahh, interrupted another wonderful dream, didn't I? Sorry."

I sat down at my desk and rubbed my face, thankful that the aching was slowly subsiding to a dull roar. His voice washed over me one last time for the morning, and then went silent.

"Yeah, I hate waking up."

Rosalie understood. She was the only one who knew about my dreams, about _him_.

She changed the topic mercifully. "So are you packed yet or are you procrastinating?"

I looked over my shoulder towards my empty closet and glanced around the rest of the room.

"I've got all my pictures scanned and burned to discs like you said, which helped lighten my load immensely. I let Angela go through my clothes last week, so I only have a week's worth of winter clothes."

"Good," she sounded pleased. "You and I will go shopping once you get here and get settled. Then I'll be taking you to your place. I can't wait to see it, Bella. The pictures looked amazing."

Ah yes, the inheritance. My grandmother Swan, who lived in Northern England, had worked for a wealthy family as a castle keeper, basically just keeping a warm body in the castle while the family was away.

She had been born and raised in England, and had refused to move when my mother immigrated to America as soon as she graduated from school. She had worked for the family up until her death last year.

"Rose, I gotta hit the shower and get cleaned up. I'll call you from the airport, okay?"

My mind was wandering, and I was wasting precious time.

"Sounds good. I can't wait to see you! It's been too long."

"Rose, it's been 8 months."

"Yeah, but that's a long time!"

I laughed and moved my mouse to end our call. "Later."

"Later Bella."

I powered down my computer and packed the cord up in my bag. Once I was satisfied I had everything ready, I grabbed the outfit I'd left out last night and headed towards the bathroom.

After getting the water nice and hot, I stepped in and closed the glass door behind me. Letting the hot water rain down over my head, my mind took me back to the first visit to my Grandmother that I remembered.

I was six years old. My books were the only things I insisted on bringing with me.

The castle had many rooms, and should have been forlorn and overbearing to a young child from America. It wasn't like your average hotel. There was no sheet rock, no televisions, but it felt more like home than anywhere I'd ever been before.

I had my own room with a fireplace and a window seat overlooking the green rolling hills of the English countryside and the tiny town below.

I spent many a days roaming the countryside with the family's huge Irish Wolfhound by my side, and many a nights in the window seat reading with the fire crackling a calming song.

My dreams had begun when I was six, on my first visit to England. It was there in that king sized four post bed that I first heard him - when he found me.

He had sounded exactly then as he had sounded last night, some ten years later. Our exchanges were limited to very few words, but there was a calming presence he brought, as though he were my own guardian angel.

I woke the next morning feeling as though I had just said goodbye to a very good friend, and remember to this day feeling sad. The next night, however, he found me again.

There was no sexuality to our relationship then. He had been merely someone, something very near and dear to me in an inexplicable way.

I never spoke of him to my mother, but my grandmother and I had many chats together on the hills that summer.

I told her that I'd had a friend come to see me in my dreams, and that I didn't know who he was, but that I felt like I was very special to him. She had listened without scoffing, as my mother would have.

She told me that in all the years she'd lived at the castle, she'd heard and occasionally seen some things that she would never talk of, but that anything was possible.

I pressed her, as any child would do, to know more about what she'd seen and heard.

"Isabella, my little reader, do you understand what "destiny" means?" She'd wrapped a blanket around me and pulled me towards her chest as I sat on her lap, looking across the sprawling green pastures.

"I've heard if it, Grandma." I was an old soul even then.

"Yes, but do you believe in destiny?" She was speaking quietly to me, just over the sound of the wind whistling in from the south. The darkening gray clouds meant there would be rain later that evening.

"I don't know, maybe?" I looked up at her blue eyes as she smiled down at me.

"Do you believe in dragons and fairies? Witches and gnomes?"

I thought seriously about her question, and answered her as best I could, sensing that she was being serious.

"I don't believe in everything, but some things, I guess. I know Santa isn't real, because I saw Daddy putting my presents under the tree last year."

She laughed and hugged me. "Yes, your father is Santa, I'm afraid." She said nothing more for a moment, and then nudged a little further into her inquisitive questioning.

"Do you believe that there are things that could be real, when others say they're not? Like fairies?"

"Sure, I suppose. Why, Grandma? Have you seen a fairy before?"

I remember her pausing for a moment before hugging me tighter.

"Something like that, yes. But this stays between you and I, young lady, understand?" I looked from the gray clouds rolling in to her serious face.

"I won't tell anyone, Grandma. Cross my heart and hope to die." I crossed my chest, and her face softened.

"I believe that true love is more real than anything else in life. Love, Isabella, is stronger than anything else in this world. Do you believe that the love your Grandpa and I had could be so strong, that I could still feel him even now?"

"Of course, Grandma. Mama told me how he was your stole mate."

She laughed, her chest shaking my little body as I leaned against her. "Oh Isabella, your mother meant 'soul mate', dear."

"What's that, Grandma?"

"A soul mate, Isabella, is someone is a part of you. You feel him everywhere you go, and even after he's gone. Does that make sense?"

"Like the wind, Grandma? I know the wind is real, but I can't see it or touch it. Like the wind?"

"Very good, Isabella. You are such a smart girl. Like the wind, baby girl. You can't see it, and you can't hold it, but it's there. You know it's there. No one could tell you otherwise, because you feel it."

"I get it Grandma. I like our talks."

She laughed again. "I love our talks, too. So if you believe in the wind, then you believe in soul mates, right?"

"Soul mates are real, Grandma. You feel Grandpa still, don't you?"

I looked up when she didn't answer right away. Her eyes were shining, and I realized she was sad.

"Isabella, I can feel him always. He comes to me in my dreams sometimes, and I can feel him all around me. Do you believe that love can be like that?"

"I believe it, Grandma. Love is always with you."

"Yes, it is. And, love will be waiting for you when it's time to be with your soul mate again. Do you believe that Grandpa is waiting for me someday, and that he is with me now to keep me company while he waits for me?"

I scrunched up my nose and thought hard.

"Mama says keeping boys waiting makes their heart grow fonder, bigger. Do you think Grandpa's heart is growing for you while he waits for you?"

She looked down at me and kissed the top of my head. "Isabella Marie Swan, you are smarter than anyone I know. His heart most certainly grows fonder while he waits. Mine does too."

"Remember this, Isabella, for one day I will go away to be with Grandpa again. I will be very happy, but you will remember our conversation. Promise me that you will always believe in everything we've talked about, no matter what anyone says."

"I will, Grandma. Will I ever have a soul mate too?"

Something passed across her face that my young mind couldn't comprehend as she teared up again.

"Your soul mate is out there, Isabella. He is waiting for you. He will find you when it's time."

"When will it be time, Grandma? I want to grow up fast so I can meet him!"

She laughed and helped me up, as we headed back to the castle for dinner.

"Don't be in any hurry, baby girl. Life goes so fast, sometimes. You wake up, and you're old like me. And don't sit around waiting on your soul mate. You'll meet nice boys that you like spending time with. But when you do find your soul mate, listen to your heart and no one else."

She tapped her finger over my heart as she finished our conversation, and then grabbed my hand as we started walking.

As I pulled myself out of the memory of one of my most treasured days of my life, I hurried through toweling off and getting dressed.

Just as I was about to go get my father up, I heard him downstairs fixing breakfast. I grabbed my laptop bag and purse, and headed downstairs to add them to the pile of luggage by the front door.

"Morning dad" I greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. "Where's Mom?"

He set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me and went back to the stove to fix his own plate.

"She's at the church helping out with the cooking for tomorrow's chili dinner. She'll be back anytime now." He pulled out a chair and sat down to eat, glancing up at me periodically. He was looking for any signs that I was going to regret leaving the States, but he wasn't going to find any.

"Dad, stop looking at me like I'm going to burst out crying. I'm going. I want to go. I miss Rosalie, too, and Jasper. This is really what I want."

He looked at me and shoved another fork full of eggs into his mouth, scowling a bit at the realization that nothing had changed this morning. I was going.

I giggled as I noticed the little yellow flecks of egg in his moustache.

"What?" he grumbled, as I motioned over my lip. He swiped under his nose, as egg crumbs rained down on his plate. "Oh, thanks."

He eyeballed me again. "So, are you sure you want to take online courses instead of attending school in person? Seems strange to learn like that."

"Dad, that's because it's a new thing. Telecourses are just as good as sitting in the classroom. The teacher can see and hear you, and you can see and hear her. It's very interactive; there's just more writing involved. But since I'm going to major in English, there's bound to be a lot of writing anyways. It'll be fine."

He grunted something as my mom came bursting through the door, looking like nine kinds of hell. Her eyes were red and she'd obviously had another bawl session on her way home just now. She smiled and hung her purse on the back of a chair and started fixing herself a plate of food.

"How are you this morning, honey? Did you get any sleep? You must be so excited." She was talking with her back to me, but I knew she was having a hard time with me leaving.

"I'm good, and I always sleep good." I smiled at myself and looked down at my plate, forking another bite. _Of course I always slept good. He was there._

She sat down and looked a bit more composed than when she's came in a few seconds ago, so I decided not to say anything. We ate in silence, occasionally glancing at each other as we ate.

Dad washed off our plates and set them in the sink, refusing to let me clean up. "We'll get that later today. Trust me, your mother will need something to take her mind off everything." He grabbed my luggage and headed out to load up the car.

My mother was upstairs 'freshening up', also known as, having another cry.

I put my coat on and grabbed my bag and purse, took one look around the living room at hideous childhood pictures of me plastered everywhere, and turned to walk out onto the front porch. The screen door swung shut behind me with a clatter, and I clomped down the wooden steps.

I climbed into the back of the new Malibu Mom had bought and shut my door, waiting for them to get me one step closer to where my heart was pulling me.

I closed my eyes and thought of the last time I'd seen England, and the beautiful area that I would now call home. It was 8 months ago, and Grandma had just passed away. Mom and I had taken the first flight we could over, and at the family's insistence, we had stayed at the castle as always.

I got my own room, which no one slept in but me when visited. It had somehow been set aside for me. It was a somber occasion, but as soon as we walked in, I felt at home. I felt close to everything that mattered.

It was the first night that I'd almost seen him in my dream. I couldn't see his face, but I'd seen glimpses of his body as he knelt next to me in by the bed. It was also the first time I felt something more between him and I than comfort and completeness. I felt immensely attracted to him.

I wanted to touch him, and to be touched. I'd asked him to show me himself, and he hadn't answered me. I felt that he wanted to, but couldn't.

It was the most amazing dream I'd had yet. Each night after that, I'd merely heard him again. I'd felt at a loss that we seemed to be going backwards in my dreams from that night forward. I wanted more than his voice.

The sound of the car doors opening snapped me back to my alternate reality, as I liked to think of it these days. Back to reality.

"Are you sure you have everything?" my dad asked, closing his door.

"I'm positive." I said nothing more, anxious to be on that plane.

"Alright then, let's get going." He threw his arm over the back of my mom's seat and started out on our drive.

Three hours later they were hugging me goodbye, and I was trying to peel myself away from them.

We said our goodbyes, and I walked away feeling like I could hardly contain myself. As much as I loved my parents, I felt like I was not leaving anything behind, but running towards something – something that was pulling me, making me very impatient.

After getting my bags checked and getting through security, I set my laptop bag and purse down on the floor and plopped into a chair, overlooking the tarmac of planes. The windows gave passengers a chance to see their planes land and take off, but I wasn't interested in watching.

I glanced at the digital clock showing the time, and realized I had twenty minutes before boarding. I opened my cell and dialed Rose up, long distance.

"Hey cousin, almost boarding?" Rose answered on the first ring.

"I got twenty minutes. Just wanted to call you like I said I would and let you know I'm on my way. Well, in a few minutes I will be, anyways."

"Awesome, hey, Jasper wants to take you out to our favorite local pub tomorrow night. You game for that? He's bringing his girlfriend, and his new lab partner. Says I'll love him."

"Jasper's actually found somebody he approves of introducing you to? That's a first." I had never known Jasper to like any guy who was interested in his sister, let alone set them up to meet.

"Yeah, weird huh? Anyways, I know it's eating up serious dinero calling me, so I'll just tell you that we can't wait to see you, and have a safe flight."

I laughed. "What exactly does that mean, anyways? People always say that, but what, I'm trying to have a dangerous flight?"

"Smart ass" Rose teased. "See you soon. Have a safe flight."

"I'm virtually flipping you off right now." I laughed and closed my phone. I powered it down and shoved it in my purse, wanting to save my battery for when I land a few hours from now.

I had a layover on the east coast, and then it was a few more hours of flying. This was going to be one long ass trip.

As they called my flight, my stomach started getting serious butterflies. I got in the A boarding group, and filed in the line towards the gate. The lady ripped my ticket and tucked the rest in my little folder.

She smiled as I walked past her, down into the little tunnel towards the plane door. I grabbed the first open seat, four rows back and plopped down next to the window. I fished out my iPod and immediately put my earbuds in.

You didn't want to be on a plane by yourself without being inaccessible. Otherwise, someone would chat you up the entire flight. I knew better.

I shoved my bags into the overheard compartment and settled down in my seat, buckling my belt tightly. I smirked as I thought of my friend Mike's favorite George Carlin routine.

His words on 'preboarding' and 'getting on the plane' made me shake my head as I thumbed through my song list. I felt someone sit down next to me and looked over for a quick polite glance. It was a woman, looking to be in her fifties. Yep, thank God for the iPod.

I smiled politely at her and went back to looking at my song list. Best to nip that in the bud early on.

I was still trying to find something to fit my mood when I felt the plane shudder, signaling movement. I looked out the window and saw that we were indeed rolling backwards, backing away from the airport.

When we jerked forward and started slowly rolling towards the runway, I let out a huge breath I didn't realize I had been holding. Just as we came to a stop, waiting our turn to taxi down the runway for takeoff, I found exactly what I wanted to hear.

I pressed play and leaned my head back into my seat, looking out the window as I left Seattle behind.

Chris Daughtry's voice sang to me as I relaxed further. I truly felt like I was going home, somehow.

As the plane started rolling and quickly picked up speed, I found myself smiling like a silly girl. Usually takeoffs were a little exhilarating for me, but this felt different. I simply felt relaxed and at peace.

The plane jolted as the wheels left the ground, and my heart felt as though it were growing two sizes. I turned up the volume over the engines growing louder and watched everything get smaller and smaller.

As the plane banked, I closed my eyes and settled in for a nap. I'm going home.

A/N: I hope you liked it. I have to give you the background, so I hope it wasn't too boring for anyone. I felt it was important to take some time with setting up some things, so you'll get a better feel for the story. Sometimes I feel authors who write fanfic are in too big of a hurry to get them in bed together, or cause drama, that they skip over what could have been a delicious background buildup. Here's hoping you'll stick with Bella on her journey!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Five days had passed since I'd landed on British soil – five long days. I'd missed my cousins terribly, and had enjoyed our short time together shopping, eating, reminiscing, and goofing off together, but with each passing day I had grown more impatient to be on my way. Rosalie and Jasper had sweetly offered to accompany me the few hours journey north to the estate that I would now call home, but I had politely declined. After several rounds of hugs and goodbyes, I finally made my get-away. A few hours later and several failed attempts at a nap later, my bus made its stop in the little town I remembered well. I was the only passenger left, so the driver helped me unload my bags. He smiled and waved as he drove away, leaving me standing on the damp brick road, still wet from a recent rain. I looked around me, glancing at the little town at the bottom of the hill, and up the bright green grass covered hill. My breath caught and my heart lept inside my chest as my eyes landed on the beautiful, stately castle on the hill. It overlooked the town and the coast with an air of majesty. As I bent down to collect my bags, I heard someone behind me. I turned and was met by Father Thomas, my grandmother's old coffee buddy.

"Bella, welcome!" He held out his arms to hug me as I set my bag down. He embraced me, and the unmistakable scent of fresh coffee clung tightly to him.

I breathed in the scent, a wave of nostalgia surprising me as tears filled my eyes.

"You smell of coffee, father."

He pulled back to reveal his own damp eyes, smiling.

"Yes, I felt the need for a cup while I waited for you to arrive. Come, I'll walk you up."

We walked up the steep road together, and talked of the goings on of the little town I would now be living above. Winded and worn out, we finally made it up the sharp incline and onto the castle grounds. I set my bag down and bent over to catch my breath.

Father Thomas did the same, resting my luggage against the concrete stairs leading the rest of the way up.

"Well, this is my stop. I would offer to help you the rest of the way, but I'm afraid I'm not as young as I used to be." He smiled apologetically and gave me a parting hug.

"Thanks for your help. I don't want to think about lugging this stuff up here by myself."

He turned and started down the hill towards town again, waving over his shoulder and calling out his goodbyes.

I turned and looked up at what I now would call home. It was breathtaking. It was mine.

I grabbed the handle of my rolling luggage and threw my bag over my shoulder. Dragging the luggage up the concrete steps one at a time, I finally reached the top of the steps and entered the courtyard. It was quiet except for the fierce English wind blowing here and there. Everything was immaculate. The grounds were maintained just as well as the last time I'd been here just a few months ago, even with no one living here any longer.

Rolling my bag along as I passed under the stone archway, I could finally see the massive castle in front of me. Instead of looming menacingly over me, it simply felt as though it was my protection, my guardian. I smiled as the comfort once again washed over me, and felt a peace inside myself I could not place. Gone was the sense of urgency, the pulling; in it's place was now a warm secure sense of comfort. I felt home.

The large wooden doors were heavy as I pushed them open, and stepped inside. Closing the heavy doors, I started down the corridor past the kitchen and towards the main staircase. It was quiet, and strangely, not unsettling. My grandma had always been the only one occupying the property, so I had been used to having the place almost all to myself on my visits. Besides that, I had always felt more at home in this very place than anywhere else I'd ever been. Dragging my bag up the dark wooden stairs, I reached the second floor. Taking off my coat, I threw it over my arm and walked to the stairs that led to the third floor. That was where my room was, and I'd already decided I would keep it.

My energy began to wane as I climbed the last of the stairs and began the walk down the hallway to my room. All the doors were open as I passed, but I only had eyes for my door.

I entered my room and let my bags and coat fall to the floor. I toed off my boots and pulled my hat off my head, tossing it to the floor. I turned on the lamp beside the bed and pulled back the covers, and climbed into my bed. As I laid down and snuggled under the covers, I felt like I was in heaven. My eyes closed, and I drifted.

oooooooooooooo

"_Isabella._"

I sat bolt upright as I was suddenly woken by his voice, calling my name. Breathing hard, I glanced over at the light on the bedside table. It was off. I clicked it on and looked around, listening for the sound of his voice again.

Nothing.

I could see that it was already dark outside, and as I checked the time on my phone it said 10:30pm. Fabulous. I'd slept all afternoon and evening, and now was wide awake.

I threw back the covers and shivered: time to light a fire.

There was a generous stockpile of wood stacked beside and in front of the fireplace, as usual. After starting the fire, I made my way into the bathroom to take care of my human needs, as grandma used to say.

There were towels folded and placed on the vanity, making a hot shower something I would definitely be doing later.

I unpacked my bags and put away my toiletries before making my way downstairs and into the kitchen for something to eat. Surprisingly, the cupboards were full of pasta, canned vegetables from the garden, and even my favorite raspberry biscuits. I raised my eyebrows at the little package. How the hell was there actually food here that didn't look ancient, and on top of that, my favorite English biscuits?

I grabbed the package, deciding now was not the time to question things, being that I was starving like a hostage and all.

Expecting to find a dark, empty fridge that wasn't even turned on, I opened the door to find fresh milk, orange juice, eggs, bacon, butter, and other various perishables. What the hell?

Whatever. I shook my head and snagged the glass jug of milk, closing the fridge door and plopping into a chair at the table with my unexpected loot. I opened the milk and brought the bottle to my nose and sniffed, hoping it wouldn't be rancid. It was fresh.

I looked at the bottle and looked around the kitchen, wondering what other surprises I would find. Perhaps Father Thomas or someone had surprised me with a stocked kitchen. I would have to express my serious thanks for the delightful bounty I was about to partake in. I opened the crinkly package of delectable flaky goodness, and moaned in pleasure as my mouth watered around the first heavenly bite. I drank the milk right from the bottle, as always, and repeated the process with a few more biscuits. Capping the milk and folding the package closed, I put everything back in its place and headed back upstairs with a happy stomach to enjoy the fire for a while.

It was crackling and happy as I entered my room, blazing along just perfectly. I pulled my chaise lounge from the corner up closer to the fire and stretched out, sighing in contentment.

Tonight I didn't want to do anything but enjoy the fire, maybe a hot shower, and hopefully get some sleep.

As I stared at the flames, I thought of his voice earlier when I'd woken up. He'd said my name, but it was different this time. It didn't sound longing, but pleased instead.

After a while of waiting to feel the first waves of drowsiness that would not yet come, I decided to explore the castle to see if anything had changed since last I'd been here a few months ago.

Grabbing the old lantern from my dresser and the matches in the top right drawer, I lit the wick and replaced the glass globe over the little flame.

One by one I glanced in each room on the third floor, only to see everything exactly the same as it had been before. Deciding to take a look on the second floor, I carefully made my way down the stairs, and began the process again. Each room was immaculate and intact, the beautiful old furniture still in place, the large mirrors above each dresser, the fireplaces stocked with wood – it all held great memories for me.

I could remember playing under the old piano in the study, and the countless hours I'd spent reading and napping in the library, where I now stood.

Tossing some wood in the fire, I hastily started another fire for warmth and placed the heavy metal screen over the hearth. Satisfied with my efforts, I turned to fetch a book from the shelves in the hopes that reading might make me sleepy. As I started towards the bookcases, I stopped when I noticed a dark brown book lying in the chair closest to the fire.

Reaching for it, I carefully picked it up and turned it over, looking for a title. The spine said nothing, so I opened it to the first pages.

There, written in the most beautiful, old penmanship was a note. It read as follows:

"Dearest Isabella, welcome home. I took the liberty of laying out your favorite for you. I hope you sleep well. Love, E."

I felt my brows furrow together as I studied the intricate flowing script on the page, addressed to me, to my full first name. No one called me Isabella but my grandmother. But the book wasn't signed with her initial, nor was the handwriting hers.

Never taking my eyes off the script, I sat down in the chair facing the fire. I turned a couple more pages until I found the title I already knew would be there: Emily Dickinson, 1924, first edition. I had read these poems so often when I was younger that I no longer needed a book for a few of my favorites to recite them.

I flipped to the middle of the book and immediately came upon one of my favorites when I was a little girl. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, and quietly spoke the words I knew by heart:

_I hide myself within my flower,_

_That wearing on your breast,_

_You, unsuspecting, wear me too - _

_And angels know the rest._

_I hide myself within my flower, _

_That, fading from your vase,_

_You, unsuspecting, feel for me_

_Almost a loneliness._

I smiled to myself and leaned my head back in my chair, hugging the book to my chest. My eyes remained closed as I thought about my many nights over the course of my life. They had been the only time I'd truly felt at home somewhere, and tonight, resting by the fire in my home, I had never felt more at home.

I listened to the soft crackling of the fire in front of me, luxuriating in the warmth of it's heat. As I began to drift peacefully to sleep, my last conscious thoughts were of _him_.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

EPOV

As her breathing slowed and fell into a steady rhythm, I emerged from the darkness to come near her. She was sleeping peacefully, as I already knew, looking more beautiful than any woman I'd ever seen.

As I stared at her from across the quiet room, I thought back to the many restless years since she first came here, how long I had waited for her.

Time before she came had passed quickly, one year blurring into another: an endless parade of mindless existence. Everything changed the first time I heard her, smelled her, seen her....something had hit me in the chest harder than anything in this world was capable of. According to my wise but nosy sister Alice, the little girl that had blown into my home like the sweetest breeze was the one I had been waiting for.

Alice had insisted that she could see Isabella and I, and that we would be inseparable. I had demanded to know how it was anything but proper that we were even discussing the young girl's future with me, desperately asking for any specifics to placate my conscience. It seemed incomprehensible that a little girl could invoke such new feelings inside of me.

New feelings I'd never felt before, namely a sense of protectiveness over the girl, curiosity, and something else I couldn't put vocabulary behind.

I had no improper feelings towards her; to me, she was simply something I knew I couldn't let go of.

I would wait for her as long as it took.

The first night, after Alice's assurances by phone that I wouldn't hurt her, I had sat in the chair next to her bed and simply observed her.

At some point in the night, I'd remembered, she'd reached out her hand, her fingers on her hand outstretched over the side of the bed. She was having a nightmare, it seemed, as she was terrified sounding.

It was then I made a decision that I have since struggled with. I'd reached out my cold hand, and gently taken her hand in mine.

I was terrified that she would wake and find me next to her bed; her nightmare would have paled in comparison.

As I braced myself for the moment I would need to disappear into the shadows of her room, the most incredible thing happened.

She'd calmed, smiled, and left her hand in mine. I imagined what it must feel like to look over one's own child in sleep, as though she were my child to take care of and protect.

As I was warring with myself over how long to hold onto her hand once she'd calmed, it had happened.

She began to speak in her sleep.

She'd mumbled about being afraid, and I then crossed another line with a human. I brushed my hand along her forehead, barely ghosting across her skin. She'd sighed, and she'd been comforted.

Then, breaking all the rules, I'd began to speak to her to comfort her. I wanted more than anything to give her peace, to allow her to drift back into pleasant dreams.

I spoke quietly, telling her things that amazed me as the words fell from my lips.

I told her things I'd never felt for a human before, or for anyone of my kind.

I'd spoken her name, the one I'd heard her grandmother calling her all evening.

I promised her that she would never be alone again.

She'd grasped my hand tighter, and like the first hit of the best drug, she'd smiled and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. She was forever imprinted on my heart.

Shortly after she seemed deeply under, I released her hand and placed it gently back on the bed beside her. I leaned back in my chair and watched her for a few seconds, and then I ran. I left the grounds and ran through the night.

I was running from myself, from her, from anything that didn't make any sense to me.

After a few minutes and many miles later, I'd stopped and sat on a bluff overlooking the sea. There was hardly any moonlight to illuminate the water below, but I could see perfectly without it.

I watched as seemingly structured waves rolled in, and then became indistinguishable once they reached the rocky shore. I never broke my gaze away from the waves as I battled myself, thought of Alice's words, and even more so, thought of the girl.

By the time the sun was just started to warm the black sky near the horizon, my decision had been made, though nagging thoughts still troubled me.

I wanted to protect her, to comfort her. I didn't understand it, but I would fight to the death to keep her safe.

There was no going back. I hid myself from view when I returned, the one rule I would not break with the girl. She could not see me.

I listened from a distance the next day, hoping she wouldn't have remembered any of my comforting her the night before during her nightmare.

I was floored when she and her grandmother spoke alone upstairs in the study of her dream. She had felt like someone had watched over her, and asked questions about the comforting voice she'd heard.

Instead of admonishing her for an overactive imagination, she asked Isabella questions and wanted to hear all about it. I was beginning to see the remarkable bond between the two of them.

The girl said she couldn't wait to get to sleep tonight to spend more time with her new friend. The cheerful, hopeful tone of her voice made my need to be near her almost insatiable.

I kept my distance the rest of the time Isabella stayed, but each night I was by her bedside, quietly speaking to her.

Each morning she would excitedly tell her grandmother more about her "friend", and how she felt like she had an angel looking out for her.

It had made my skin crawl, and the doubts began to war inside of me again...until I heard her beautiful laughter floating through the hallway.

The night before she was to return home, her summer visit over, I consulted Alice about my turmoil over Isabella leaving.

She reminded me of something I'd forgotten, a way to always be with her. It would thankfully not offer me any influence or control over her, but it would allow Isabella to feel me with her. It would allow me to continue comforting her as she slept.

After a heated whispered debate over the line with Alice, my desire to be able to keep tabs on her and comfort her won out over any last nagging conflicting feelings I'd had.

As I'd kneeled by her bedside the last night, she held out her hand as she'd done each night, and I took it. She sighed as usual and snuggled under her covers, content and deep asleep.

I brought her fingers to my lips and inhaled, briefly cementing her scent in my memory. Without another moment's hesitation, I gently nicked her fingertip and braced myself as I placed my finger to her cut. It had barely bled, as I was careful to just barely graze her skin.

I wiped the small bit of blood that had came to the surface and swiped my finger in my mouth, tasting her. It was exquisite beyond my wildest dreams.

Saying the words Alice had reminded me of, passed down from those before us, I bonded her to me.

I would know her feelings no matter where she was, until she no longer wanted my comfort and presence.

The mere thought that someday she would be with another man, marry...the pain that shot through my chest was great, but the pain of letting her go was greater.

I would always be with her in her sleep, as long as she wanted my comfort. If the day came she no longer wanted it, I would break the bond and let her be happy, even at great cost to myself.

Snapping myself out of the memories of so many years ago, on the night I'd bonded myself to her, I cautiously approached the chair that held the most important thing to me, ever.

She didn't stir, but instead seemed to breath more evenly. I had this effect on her when I spoke to her when she was away, and when I was in the room with her here.

I knelt down beside her and frowned as I noticed goose bumps on her arms. I knew this meant she was cold by paying close attention to her human needs, as she'd always called them.

I stood and retrieved the throw blanket bearing the Cullen Crest from a chair. Gently placing it over her, I tucked it under her chin and knelt down beside her again.

I brushed her hair away from her face, reveling in its softness. The long dark tresses had never changed lengths, as though she'd preferred it long like this. It was the most beautiful head of hair I'd ever seen, belonging to the most beautiful girl, now woman, that I'd ever seen.

A woman. Isabella was a woman now, I had to remind myself. For so long, my feelings for her had been pure, but it was changing these last few months. She'd had thoughts about me before she went to sleep at night that were anything but pure, and it had been getting the best of me.

I had felt things for her since that had been excruciating to deal with alone, but it had been a small price to pay.

And now that she was here, and I knew how she felt about me, I allowed myself for the first time to press my nose to her hair and let her scent wash over me.

She wanted to know me, to see me, and she felt that I was real, and that she would find me here.

I knew this, and much more. Her feelings were laid bare each night as she begged me to come to her, to touch her, to see my face.

As I was preparing to speak to her for our nightly ritual, she stirred suddenly. I could hear her pulse quicken and her breathing change – she was waking.

I quickly left the room and hid myself down the hall from her. Vampire interrupted, it seems.

My eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, and I could see her standing, puzzling over the blanket.

Brilliant, just brilliant.

Now she knew someone had been in the room with her. Would she be frightened?

I listened to her heartbeat and observed her, and noticed she didn't seem to be afraid. Instead, she was curious.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and carried the book I'd laid out for her down the hall to her room. I'd known she would choose her room to be her permanent bedroom.

I watched as she climbed into bed, setting the book on the table beside her. She turned out the hurricane lantern and clutched the blanket to her I'd laid over her earlier.

Just as I expected her to go to sleep, I heard her inhale deeply, and could see that she was pressing the blanket to her nose. She sighed loudly, contentedly, and murmured two soft words as she settled in for sleep.

"Thank you."

I stood frozen in place as I realized she was speaking to me. Somehow, she felt it was me, and perhaps could smell me on the blanket. I didn't realize I left a scent behind, but it was now obvious that I did indeed.

The corners of my lips turned upward as it sank in that she'd spoken to me, awake, for the first time. It was even more than I imagined it would be.

I ran my hands through my hair in the dark and sighed, knowing there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to resist her for long. She would ask more of me, this much was apparent. She was neither afraid nor disturbed about the blanket; she was happy.

I left her to sleep, knowing she needed it, and slid down the wall outside of her room.

I would stay here until she woke, staring at each line in the dark cherry wood covering the wall, and thinking of the sweet words she'd said to me.

It would be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm enjoying writing this story, even if I can't update as often as I'd like. Thanks for reading along, and here's hoping you enjoy it half as much as I enjoy writing it.

CHAPTER 3:

EPOV

I could hear her breathing changing before she even stirred. My eyes focused for the first time in hours, and I quickly stood. Still outside her doorway, I could hear her moving around in her bed, stretching, no doubt.

She yawned quietly and grew still again. I decided it would be a good time to move out of view, as she would certainly be getting out of bed at any moment.

Just as I was about to take my first silent step towards the next room, I froze at the sound of her voice.

"_I know you're here."_

I stayed perfectly still, furrowing my eyebrows. Was she talking to me? Perhaps her grandmother – sometimes she spoke to her as if she were still alive.

"_I didn't cover up myself last night. I know you're here; I can feel you."_

I silently cursed myself for the impulsive move last night, placing a throw over her in the chair like that. I knew better. Now that she was here, I was already getting careless.

I stayed silent and quietly slipped away into the next room. I would give her privacy to bathe and dress, even though I wanted more than anything to simply walk into the next room and allow her to finally see me: the voice who has never left her side for years, the one she couldn't wait to go to sleep just to hear me.

Last night she would have heard nothing. I had not spoken to her after she'd went back to sleep last night. It was the first night I'd denied her my presence.

Well-hidden in the next room, I could hear the whoosh of the covers being thrown back, no doubt in frustration.

I could hear the sounds of her rummaging around in her dresser, and then the water coming on. Then, she switched on some music and began singing along, her voice the sweetest sound I'd ever heard.

"_You are not alone tonight, imagine me there by your side_

_It's so hard to be here so far away from you_

_I'm counting the days till I'm finally done_

_I'm counting them down, yeah one by one_

_It feels like forever till I return to you_

_But it helps me on those lonely nights_

_It's that one thing that keeps me alive_

_Knowing that you wait for me_

_Ever so patiently_

_No one else knows the feeling inside_

_We hang up the phone without saying goodnight_

_Because it's the sound of your voice that brings me home_

_It's never been easy to say_

_But it's easier when I've gone away_

_Knowing that you wait for me_

_Ever so patiently_

_You're everything I've ever dreamed of having _

_And it's everything I need from you just knowing_

_That you wait for me_

_What I'd give, what I'd do, knowing I'm not there for you_

_Makes it so hard to leave_

_What I'd give, what I'd do, anything to get me home to you_

_This time I'll stay....._

_And you wait for me_

_Ever so patiently_

_You're everything I've ever dreamed of having_

_And it's everything I need from you just knowing_

_That you wait for me."_

As the music came to an end, another song began to play. She didn't sing this one, however, but instead, it was quiet save for the occasional splashing of water.

The words she'd sang swam through my head, intoxicating me. She'd been waiting for me, and comforting herself, sure that I was waiting for her as well.

For the first time, I'd heard her speak what I'd felt from her all along: she wanted me...the voice she knew, the comforting presence, the one she couldn't wait to get to sleep to feel near to...me.

I could be old, wrinkly, and a complete ogre. Still, she wanted whoever I was, whoever was behind the voice, the feeling...she wanted.

The wheels quickly started turning in my head as I finally knew the answer to my dilemma that I'd struggled with for what seemed like eternity; I would come to her.

I would no longer hold back, so that she wouldn't fear me.

I would no longer hold back, to protect her from what I am.

I would no longer hold back, out of cowardice.

She needed me, wanted me. I needed her, wanted her, so badly.

Nothing would take her from me, ever.

I had much thinking to do. Satisfied with the sounds of the bathwater still sloshing around in the tub, I quietly stepped out of the adjacent room and silently made my way to the wine cellar. It was a separate phone line, one that no one knew about but myself and Marie, Isabella's grandmother.

Alice would know how this could be done. She would see.

BPOV

My first conscious thought was not one that pleased me, at all. When I'd left the study and came to bed for the night, he did not visit me as he always did.

Yet, I feel him stronger than ever, though I am awake. Instead of reeling from the loss of his voice last night in my sleep, there was only frustration.

I felt him all around me here. I'd felt it the minute I'd gotten on that plane to come over here and begin my new life.

I stared at the ceiling and decided that today I would begin to speak to him, as if he were listening. I knew he was real. I knew it just as one knows the wind is real; though it can't be touched or seen, one could feel it.

"_I know you're here."_ I listened carefully, barely breathing so I could hear the tiniest of sounds.

There was nothing. I tried again.

"_I didn't cover up myself last night. I know you're here; I can feel you."_

Still, there was no sound, except the wind lightly blustering outside. Fitting, I told myself. I can hear the wind today, but not my mystery voice.

I threw the covers back and decided to get my bath and dress. Today I would explore the castle a bit more to see if anything had changed downstairs.

I grabbed my iPod and dock, along with my clothes, and ran my bathwater. Singing along to a song that had gotten my through many an impatient day waiting for my beloved night time with _him_, I relaxed and sang my frustrations away.

EPOV

Alice had confirmed that this was meant to be, yet again, as she reminded me. She'd politely told me that if I didn't introduce myself to Isabella, she would drag herself up here and introduce herself first.

That had been the last little nudge I'd needed to shore up my resolve. Alice had sworn that it would only be time lost with Isabella, every day that I waited. She assured me that I just needed to man up and do it, sooner than later.

I listened for her whereabouts, and found her heartbeat in the direction of the kitchen. I made my way upstairs quietly, and in the shadows.

I could hear her chewing something, and smiled to myself as I pictured me sitting across from her at the kitchen table each morning.

It was once again almost impossible to keep my feet planted firmly in place, telling myself there was a time and a place to do this. While she was chewing her breakfast was certainly not it. She'd probably choke to death on her food, being startled by me at a most inopportune time.

I would wait for her to be in the study again. That would be the sign I would wait for. When she sat down in the chair by the fire again, as last night, I would come to her.

BPOV

Maddening....it was maddening. There was so much food in this place, that I would surely need nothing for days, if not a couple of weeks or more.

As I sat at the kitchen table alone, eating a banana, I thought of the day a few weeks ago when we'd gotten the letter from the British solicitor representing my grandmother's estate.

My parents and I hadn't even known she was to inherit anything from the Cullen family. She'd been with them for many years, keeping the castle for the family. They did not live on the estate, but entrusted her with its care.

My mother had literally hit the floor when she'd opened the notarized letter that afternoon. My father had taken her to the hospital, where she'd been given a nice little prescription of Xanax, and sent home.

They'd shown me the letter over dinner, and we'd discussed what everyone already knew I would do about it.

I'd made no secret about going to England after I graduated high school, even after my grandmother passed away. I'd either stay with Rose and Jasper, or get my own place and enroll in courses.

My father had tried to forbid it, my mother had attempted to guilt-trip me with another trip to the hospital, but by the end of the week, they knew I was serious.

The castle had been willed specifically to Marie Swan's granddaughter, Isabella Marie Swan, myself. The will had stated that if anything had happened to me before my 18th birthday, as in, if I'd croaked, it was to remain in the Cullen family.

No one could figure out why it had skipped over from my mother to myself. It was assumed that since I'd spent every summer there visiting since I was little, that the Cullen family had wished me to live there when I was of age, since I loved it there so much.

It was a thinly veiled explanation for what we all knew was an unbelievably generous gift from the family, the family that I had never even met personally.

But it was all legitimate, in writing, and waiting for me personally to just turn 18 and accept it.

I couldn't figure out how it all tied in to him, except for that it had all began in the castle on a summer visit.

A noise startled me out of my thoughts, and as I turned to my right and looked into the hallway, I couldn't help but fawn over the sight that was strolling over to me.

"Sherlock!" I scooped the old cat up and draped him over my shoulder, stroking his soft fur as he purred loudly.

"How old are you now, anyways? Eight? You're an old man now, mister."

He was a gift to me by the family one summer when I was turning ten. I had asked my parents for a cat too many times to count, but my mom was allergic.

One morning in my bed upstairs, my grandmother had came in to wake me for the day, and we were both surprised to find a kitten snuggled on the bed with me.

She smiled, and said that the family had mentioned that every little girl needed a kitten to love. She'd had tears in her eyes as she'd watched me carefully pet him and adore him.

"Isabella, you are loved" she'd said, before wiping her eyes and leaving me and Sherlock to get to know one another. I'd not known what to make of it, but now something about Sherlock seemed to be more than meets the eye.

I scooped him off my shoulder and set him back on the floor, standing and looking down at him thoughtfully.

"You were a gift from the family, huh Sherlock? This castle was a gift from the family too. Coincidence much?"

I threw my banana peel away and looked around in the pantry for cat food, which I easily came across.

Filling him up a bowl, and not having a clue where his real bowl was at the moment, I patted him on the head and left him to his informal breakfast.

I was going to do some exploring today since the weather was turning colder already. It looked like snow was coming with the gray skies approaching.

Heading down the stairs to the tunnels leading to the cellars and outside to the gardens, my eyes took in everything along the way, hoping for a clue about the Cullens. I needed to know more.

After wandering around for a few minutes, it became apparent that I wouldn't find what I was looking for down here.

Then, the thought crossed my mind that perhaps there would be something in the master bedroom that would help. I had never entered that room before, and was suddenly curious as to what I would find.

EPOV

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She's already thinking about the cat. Sherlock had been a gift from me, of course. Marie had known who it was from, and it had touched her, I think, that I had given Isabella what she so badly wanted.

Of course I would give her what her heart desired, even if it was not what I wanted. I'd always hope for the best.

But the furry little old beast had to come wandering in there while she sat, lost in thought, meowing and welcoming her. He'd made her think even harder about something, and then she'd just taken off downstairs like she was on a mission.

I'd stayed on the main floor while she disappeared downstairs, out of sight. She's reappeared shortly after, only to go straight upstairs with a mischievous grin on her face.

I followed, curious as to what had her in such a state of activity. When I realized she was in my room, I panicked. I'd kept my things out of sight when she returned, but it wouldn't take much for her to find them, if she began opening drawers and doors.

Of course, she had always been a curious girl; it was only a matter of time before she found something.

I heard her footsteps on the wooden floor as she made her way through the room. I didn't hear anything opening, but I did hear her...on my bed.

I risked a glance from across the hall into my room, and saw my beautiful girl sitting on _my_ four post bed.

_I want. _

As my arousal became painfully evident, seeing her on my bed, she did the unthinkable; she lay back and sighed.

I ran my hand through my unruly hair and gripped a handful in frustration. How easy it would be to take the few steps closer to my heart's desire.

I didn't, remembering that I had a plan. I would stick to the plan. _The plan. The plan. The plan._

As I chanted silently to myself, willing myself to stay put, she rolled onto her side, and inhaled my pillows.

Oh, the breathtaking smile she wore on her face in that moment, at what must be my scent. She did the same to the blanket I'd placed over her last night.

I stepped back into the shadows, calming myself with my mantra. _The plan. The plan._

I laid my head against the stone walls and inwardly prayed to someone, anyone, that she would come to the study again tonight, as she always does each evening to read by the fire. Even as a little girl, she never missed reading by the fire each night.

Please, let her come tonight.

I could scarcely wait until then.


	4. Chapter 4

I got my first review for this story the other day, thank you very much! Everything starts with one! So the song from the last chapter that played as she bathed, that she sang outloud...that was "Wait For Me" by Theory of a Deadman. I apologize for not putting that information at the top of Chapter 3.

I have in my profile a link to the playlist I'm using for this story, and to a photobucket album for this story, as well. Feel free to look, and I've set both up to allow for others to add photos and songs to my selections, if you feel there's something else that captures the feel of some part of the story.

Thank you for choosing to read my story out of the 10,000 plus Twilight fanfics on here currently. I appreciate it, and enjoy writing it!

Chapter 4

EPOV

After seeing her lying on my bed, stretched out happily and right at home on my pillows, I had to clear my head for a while.

Quietly I slipped away to the study and accessed the secret passageway behind one of the bookshelves. Several entry points throughout the castle led to an interior room, where my laptop and personal belongings resided.

No human had been in my private room here since the castle was completed many centuries ago.

As I made my way to my chair and sat down, booting up my computer, I imagined what Isabella would think of my things: my music collection, the pictures I'd taken over the years of her grandmother for Isabella to see one day, the ring I so foolishly accepted from Esme that she hoped Isabella would wear one day.

As I stared at Isabella's image on my screen, I examined my feelings for her intently. I thought about what I would be asking of her, not wanting to ever let her go. I thought about what I would do if she didn't want a life with me.

What if she was repulsed? Worse, what if she was frightened of me?

I pulled up my chat and instant messaged my sister, needing more words of encouragement about her visions for the near future.

BPOV

After wandering around the one room my Grandma had always instructed me not to enter, I was intrigued.

As I'd stretched out on the huge, manly bed, I'd smelled the same intoxicating scent I'd smelled last night on the blanket that mysteriously was draped over me as I napped.

It wasn't a cologne, and it wasn't anything you could buy in a bottle; it was simply heavenly. It made me want to inhale those pillows all afternoon.

After a few minutes of reveling in the mysterious scent that appealed to me so much, I began to feel silly. If anyone had seen me acting so silly, I'm sure I'd have been recommended for a trip to the mental institution.

Forcing myself to leave the comfy bed, I noticed as I glanced out the window that snowflakes were falling heavily.

My first English snow! I could hardly contain myself as I ran down the hallway to my bedroom, throwing on another layer of clothes. Zipping up my snow boots I'd brought along and my heavy coat, I raced down the hallway and down the stairs.

Admonishing myself as I made it unscathed to the main floor, I was surprised I didn't fall down the stairs as quickly as I went down them.

Throwing open the heavy wooden doors, I raced out into the gently falling snow and admired the view to the town below.

It really was a magnificent place. I put my hands in my pockets and stared out across the sloping hills of the countryside.

I had been in love with this place since the first time I'd came here, and I would be happy if I never left.

I knew in my heart that I would never go back to Washington. I would never leave my home.

This place was special, held many good memories for me, and most of all...felt like home.

The cold soon brought me back to my senses, and I hurriedly ran back inside, seeking the warmth of a fire.

Closing the heavy wooden front doors, I hung my coat and shed my wet boots by the door.

Realizing I hadn't yet had lunch, I went into the kitchen and set about correcting that oversight.

EPOV

Alice had again insisted it would go well, but again wouldn't elaborate any further. It was frustrating for me, not because I didn't trust my sister's visions, but because I needed something more to calm my nerves.

It wasn't enough to hear (for the millionth time), "Edward, things will be fine, trust me." I needed something specific, like, "here's how you should tell her" or for fuck's sake, even when to tell her would be nice.

But no, Alice felt like she'd be messing with fate to interfere with how and when I finally allowed Isabella to meet the man she'd known and sought out in her dreams for years.

I was beginning to seriously consider leaving Isabella for a couple of days, just long enough to make a quick trip to Alice's closet and snap off the heels of every pair of shoes she owned. The trip would only take a short while, but with all the shoes she had....I could be there for hours.

Each time I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth, wanting so badly to seek some sort of destructive release on Alice's shoes, I could only see Isabella's face.

I could never leave her alone again, now that I'm so close to being able to speak to her, to touch her, if I would be so lucky.

I was also aware of how this could go, and what I would do if she refused me. Every part of me was screaming in her favor, that the way she sought me out and looked forward to hearing me come to her each night in her sleep...it seemed that everything included Alice's visions pointed in one direction:

she would love me in return.

I shut my laptop and rolled my chair around to face my music collection, filling several shelves with everything from classical music, to current music. Music was my salvation, my lifeline to my sanity.

Being without her for so long between her visits here would have driven me insane if not for my music.

I had a shelf entirely for Isabella's favorites. Each time I heard her singing a song, or heard her playing something on her visits, I had Alice pick a cd of it up for me during her shopping trips. She then brought it to me with a smug smile on her face, knowing what she knew about mine and Isabella's future.

She saw everything; she knew how it would turn out.

The little pixie was maddening, and I would someday, somehow find a way to repay her.

I went to my collection of classical for something soothing, and without hesitation chose Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata". It was calming to me.

Sliding the disc into the drive, I pressed play and sat back down in my chair, running my hands through my hair as I awaited the melody that would somehow ease the tension.

As the piano began the melody, I began to relax and closed my eyes. I could think of nothing but Isabella: at age 7 when she skinned her knee and cried. It had almost broken my heart, as though she were my child; at age 13 when she was ill with a stomach virus, suffering day and night for days. It was the longest week of my life, even more so when she was away from me. I had never been more afraid for her life than then, and it had hit me fully that I could lose her someday.

To age, to an accident, to an illness...

As Beethoven's melody played further, I saw her at age 17, crying herself to sleep in her room, clutching her grandmother's sweater to her face, trying to savor the last remaining scent that lingered behind after Marie succumbed to the cancer she'd told no one about.

It was assumed she died of old age, but I knew different. She'd been examined and tested at the finest hospital in London, taken care of completely by me. She'd told only me about her prognosis, and had asked only one thing of me.

I would fulfill that request, and so much more if Isabella would only let me. Soon, I will know.

As the last notes of the soothing melody faded, I rose and quickly shut off the music.

Feeling more calm and a bit inspired, I left my solitude and returned to the study, slipping out unnoticed.

As I listened for the sounds of Isabella's comings and goings, I could hear her downstairs. I decided to remain in the study and wait for her, as nightfall was only a couple of hours away.

I started a fire quickly and quietly, knowing that she would notice, but not caring. I would let her know in my own way that I was here, and give her a small gesture to indicate my presence.

As the flames crackled and settled into a rhythm, I fetched the blanket from last night from her bedroom. She'd slept with it, breathing in my scent and smiling. She'd even said "thank you" aloud to seemingly no one, but her smile said differently.

It was lying on top of her quilt next to her pillow. I brought it back to the study and laid it on the arm of her chair by the fire.

I stood back and admired my handiwork setting up a cozy spot for her. In the past, I would have never given myself away in such a manner, but tonight, it didn't matter.

Tonight, she would know I was real.

Deciding I was too impatient to wait for her to decide on her own that she wanted to read, as she did each evening, I sped things along a bit.

Shutting the study door firmly, it resonated down the hallway enough that I knew for certain she would hear it.

I positioned myself behind the heavy draperies lining the window and waited for her. I felt ridiculous, like a child playing hide-and-go-seek with a playmate. Only I wasn't playing a game; I was about to hand over my heart to a human who may or may not despise me.

I waited only a few moments, until I heard her footsteps lightly on the stairs down the hall. I steeled myself for what I was about to do, knowing that I would at least finally know how this would end.

It was time.

BPOV

After a bit of chopping and frying and opening jars of canned tomatoes and beans, I had a nice pot of chili simmering on the stove.

One bite proved that I still had it.

Grandma Swan's chili recipe, which my mom could never make right.

After eating a bowl and a half, I was happily full. Just as I was rinsing out my bowl and clearing away my dishes, I heard what sounded like a door shutting upstairs.

When I was younger, my grandma had assured me that this old place was bound to have its meaningless noises, and that I should never be afraid when I was here.

She said that I was safer here than anywhere else in the world.

I had never been afraid of this place, and I trusted in those words implicitly.

So it was with complete calm and mild curiosity that I left the dishes in the sink for tomorrow and decided now was a good time to curl up by the fire and read.

Climbing the stairs with my full stomach, I shook my head as I remembered the first night I'd stayed in my room here by myself. I'd heard a noise from down the hall that sounded like someone walking, and had been afraid.

I'd huddled under my covers until I fell asleep. It was his voice that met me that night in my sleep.

I'd been cheated last night out of hearing it, and hoped that tonight wouldn't be a repeat performance.

As I reached the door, I turned the knob and pushed it open, glancing around inside. The first thing that caught my attention was the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth. I walked into the room, and could not have been more surprised.

I had to look twice.

There was a nice fire going in the fireplace. A fire that I surely hadn't started.

Fires didn't start themselves, and ghosts do not get cold. Humans do, however, and it looked inviting as all get out.

Just as I was about to plop myself down in my chair and read, I remembered my book was in my bedroom.

Before I could even reach my bedside table, my phone chirped at me from my dresser, where it was charging.

Glancing at the missed call message, I could see that it was Rose or Jasper who'd called about an hour ago. I was knee-deep in some fuckawesome chili at the time, and hadn't even heard my phone ringing.

I dialed them up and padded back down the hall to the study. Jasper answered on the second ring.

"Bella, how is the country life treating you up there by your lonesome?"

I walked over to my chair and stopped in front of it, noticing the blanket from last night draped over the arm of the chair: the blanket I distinctly remember being on my bed today.

I glanced about the room, wondering if I was losing my mind a bit.

"Bella, hey, are you there?" Jasper teased, making me refocus my attention back to our conversation and away from the mysterious acts of kindness going on this evening in this room.

"Sorry, I was settling in to my chair with my book by the fire, you know me, gotta have my nightly read." I glanced at the fire, shrugged, and pulled the blanket over my legs to settle in for the evening.

"Ahh, yes, you won't be running out of reading material anytime soon you said? Lots of books in the old library?"

I smiled as I laid my head back into the chair and enjoyed the warmth.

"No way, never. It'd take me decades to go through even half of these books."

"Yes," he teased, "but are they ancient boring books that nobody wants to read or are they old, but cool books that never go out of style?"

"Both" I grinned, happy to hear my cousin's voice after a day of hardly speaking aloud to anyone.

"Excellent. You know Rose is going to send up some books, regardless. She's already making a list."

I rolled my eyes in the back of my head.

"So," he prodded further, "do you miss us yet? I know you miss me more than Rose...ow! She's hitting me with a blimey pillow! Goddamnit, I swear to all that's holy I'm going to set this phone down and...ow, god-...hold on a minute Bella, I'll be right back..."

I laughed aloud as I could hear the two of them yelling and running around the flat together. They were the closest brother and sister unit you'd meet.

After a few moments of Rose's hysterical giggling, Jasper finally made it back to the phone.

"Now, as I was saying....I'll bet you missed me most, eh? My jokes and my chill vibe? You know you want us to come for a visit when the snow melts up there for the winter."

"Of course I miss you most, but don't tell Rose. I don't think she'd take the news well" I whispered into the phone, completely bullshitting him. It was a dead tie; there was no way I could choose between them.

"And yes, when the snow melts, you will definitely have to come and see me up here."

"We'll do that, but unless you need us sooner, I ain't leaving London in this bitch of a cold spell. I'm keeping my ass by the fire after work every day. I fucking hate winter."

I laughed as Rose squabbled with him in the background for phone time.

"Not this time, sis. You get the next call. So are you sure there isn't anything we can bring you, milady?"

"I'm sure, good sir. I'm well attended to up here, you know. Sherlock keeps me very good company."

"That fucking cat's still living? Good night nurse, how old is that thing? Ninety in cat years?"

"Close. He's old, but he's still kicking."

"Blimey. Well, I guess he's stored up his nine lives. Well, I gotta run. Rose is taking me out to see the new Richie film. That sonofabitch doesn't make a bad British action movie. Rose said she'll call you tomorrow, since I'm being stingy tonight."

I laughed as Rose verbally told him off in the background.

"I'll be expecting the call tomorrow. Have fun at the movie, and I'll talk to you soon."

"You know it. Later."

I dropped my phone onto the floor beside me and smiled to myself, pulling the blanket up to my chin. The fire felt amazing, and for some reason, I didn't even feel like reading anymore.

I felt like daydreaming about my own romantic storyline, instead of reading about someone else's.

I grinned even further to myself as I closed my eyes and imagined how sweet his voice would sound tonight, when he hopefully came to me. I had missed him terribly last night, and wanted to do nothing more tonight than sleep, so he would come to me.

EPOV

When I heard Bella talking, I silently cursed to myself. Her surprise at the fire I'd built for her and the blanket that I'd put on her chair was diminished by the distraction of talking with someone on the phone.

I was slightly disappointed that she didn't seem too puzzled by it, though I wasn't sure why. What had I hoped for? That she'd be frightened? Definitely not. Perhaps I'd wanted her to walk over and spare me by throwing the drapery aside and saying "aha!"...not feasible.

So here I was, standing there behind heavy thread count fabric, listening to her conversation to someone. It was someone she knew well, and liked immensely.

Her voice took on a different tone as she spoke to him. It made me feel something I hadn't felt in a very long time: anger. There was something else, too, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"...you know me, gotta have my nightly read."

Her tone was playful, teasing, and whoever it was, obviously knew Isabella well enough to know how much she loved her nightly reading ritual.

"Both" she said to the voice on the other end of the phone, smiling widely. I could feel something in the pit of my stomach, making me uncomfortable. I could not put my finger on the nagging feeling that was bothering me at her banter with the caller, but it made me unhappy.

"Of course I miss you most, but don't tell Rose. I don't think she'd take the news well" she spoke lowly into the phone.

That, that feeling...it was beginning to consume me as she spoke to who I could only now assume was a man.

"And yes, when the snow melts, you will definitely have to come and see me up here."

My fists balled at my sides as I began to clench my jaw. This man, she had just invited him here in the future. I was beside myself.

Suddenly, I knew nothing. Everything I thought I was sure of was instantly gone, and replaced by a million and one doubts.

Alice had assured me without doubt that Isabella and I had a future together; that, she said, she was certain of. How many times had she told me this? How many times had I asked for more specifics, and she'd refused?

Now I was beyond frustrated; I was lost.

Was there already a suitor? Was she involved with someone?

The feeling that was coursing through me a minute ago had just intensified so much so, that I could no longer stop my mind from racing from one painful thought to another.

Had this man kissed her? Had he held her before? Had they...

Just as the relentless mind racing was becoming all-consuming, I felt my phone silently vibrating in my pocket. I knew without moving who was calling.

I risked a quick glance at the chair, and could see that Isabella was still in her chair, with her back to me.

Quietly slipping my phone out of my pocket, I opened it and placed it to my ear without a word.

"Edward, I am in the middle of a fabulous shopping trip right now, as we speak...well, as I'm speaking, and what happens? I see you...turning a very unflattering shade of green."

I said nothing because I couldn't. I couldn't make a sound; I could only listen.

"Alright, I get that you are listening to me, which works to my advantage. You can't interrupt me!" she giggled, way too enthusiastic all of a sudden at my predicament.

"Okay, so here's the first bit of information I'm going to share with you, without overdoing it. I meant what I said, Edward. Neither you nor Isabella need my interference. You only need to do what you know needs to be done, and things will work out fine. But, judging by what I just saw, you need a little help."

"Don't get used to the extra information, because this is the first and only time I'm telling you something like this. Breathe into the phone if you're still listening."

I quietly breathed a short breath to indicate in the affirmative.

"Excellent. Now, my future best friend is not speaking to a boyfriend. She is speaking to a cousin. A fine ass looking specimen, if I may say so, from what I saw – definitely a relative. My vision was extremely clear, Edward. Stay focused. I want to meet her sooner, rather than later. _Don't mess this up for me_."

I closed my phone and slipped it back into my pocket, savoring the relief flooding through me as my fears were immediately put to rest, thanks to my sister's vision.

I laid my head against the window and closed my eyes.

Well if this is what love feels like, I might not survive.

Opening them, I risked another peek at Isabella's chair. I could see she hadn't moved, and the book was no longer on the table beside the chair.

She was reading, and I could tell by her heartbeats that she was relaxed and content.

Deciding that I couldn't wait another day or night to feel her eyes upon me, and to be able to gaze upon her freely, I quietly stepped out from behind the drapery...and silently walked towards her chair.

I stopped when I was close enough that I could see her beautiful brown hair on the other side of the chair, preparing myself to speak the words I'd waited so many years to say.

As I parted my lips to speak, she lowered her book and her heartbeat changed. It began to flutter rapidly, just slightly. I paused, not expecting that she would sense me behind her.

I was suddenly wary of frightening her, so I waited.

She didn't move, but didn't pick her book back up, either.

Something inside me told me that this was it; this was the moment I'd waited for. Alice said I'd know, and she was right. I knew with every fiber of my being.

I decided that the first word I wanted to speak to her would hopefully be comforting, instead of startling. She would know in an instant who I was the moment I spoke.

With my arms resting at my sides, and my feet firmly planted in place, I spoke my first word to her when she was not asleep.

"Isabella." My voice did not falter, as I'd feared. It was not loud, nor was it too low for her to hear. It was just right: soothing and melodic.

I watched her intently, knowing that there was no going back now. She had heard me, I could hear it. Her heartbeat had sped considerably, and she was holding her breath.

"Yes." She answered in a strong voice that didn't falter. She was not afraid.

My heart nearly lept from my chest at her reaction. She sounded anything but fearful. For the first time in my existence, I felt hope.

I must have basked in the moment for too long, for she spoke again.

"Don't leave. I've waited all my life for this. Please."

She mistook my silence for my absence. If she only knew how impossible that would be for me ever again, to leave her side.

"I would like to see you, please." As if I would deny her anything...

"May I?" I asked quietly, asking her if she was ready for this.

"Please," she whispered, sounding as anxious as I was a moment ago.

I slowly took three steps to her right, angling myself beside her chair. I was only a couple of steps away from her, but enough to be as non-threatening as possible.

Our eyes instantly met, and everything I'd ever been, everything I'd ever done, everywhere I'd ever been before now meant nothing...and she was everything.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for tagging along! I hope you like this chapter, as I really enjoyed writing it. Edward's not always going to be such a timid guy, just to let you all know. He's very afraid of her reaction, but once he's assured she'll reciprocate his feelings, he's going to come out of his shell a bit. So hopefully you'll enjoy the ride as they get there!

Chapter 5

EPOV

The world could have been crumbling down around us in its fiery end and I would not have heard a thing.

I knelt to one knee, slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes followed my every move, and her expression made my chest ache with overwhelming happiness and relief. It was written all over her face that her reaction was positive – very positive.

My confidence growing with each passing second, I again spoke to her, unable to refrain any longer from telling her something, anything I was dying to say to the love of my existence. She was my world, and my days of watching her from afar and visiting her in her dreams were over.

"Are you afraid?" I asked, sensing that she was not, but needing her to give me a sign that she was alright.

Her beautiful pink lips parted as she licked her lips, mesmerizing me.

"No." Her voice was not shaky, uncertain, or fearful.

We continued to stare at one another for a few moments, each taking the other in, as though we were both staring at the most remarkable discovery that had ever been made in the history of mankind.

"Will you come closer?" she asked, as I struggled not to grin insanely. I knew as I rose to stand that this was the best day of my existence, the greatest joy I had ever known. It was indescribable how complete I felt in this moment.

I carefully closed the few steps of distance between my love and myself, feeling as though I were moving slower than it were even possible for me to move.

I again went down on one knee beside her chair, and waited. My face was tilted up towards hers, taking in her spectacular brown irises. They had tiny flecks of gold scattered throughout them, and she had the same blue ring around each iris as Marie had.

She leaned towards me, and the hope I'd felt earlier today grew three sizes. I was now flying inside, wondering if I would ever come back down.

I remained still, though it was excruciating. I wanted to touch her, to feel her skin, to brush her lips with my thumb.

But my needs and desires will from this day forward come after Isabella's, so I resisted reaching out, and let her lead.

She pushed her quilt aside and leaned over the arm of the chair, extending her hand towards my face. As her hand neared, I closed my eyes in concentration for a moment to compose myself, to ready myself for the exquisite feeling of her warm touch.

I could hear her breathing and her heartbeat, and concentrated on them as her hand slowly neared my skin.

It was in this moment that every day she'd spent in my presence over the years passed before my eyes, in a black and white montage of memories, blending from one into another. Her hair and her eyes remained the same in each memory, only the rest of her changing as she grew from a child into a woman.

I opened my eyes as the last image passed, taking in the woman that was now before me. Her eyes never left mine as her fingers slowly slid into my hair just over my ear; her warm fingers grazed my scalp and my eyes involuntarily rolled into the back of my head, the pleasure overwhelming me.

I moaned quietly, for only a moment, before regaining my composure. I remained perfectly still, giving her silent permission to verify that I was real, that I was very much kneeling before her.

As her fingers exited the back of my hair, she brought the back of her hand to my cheek, brushing it along my cold skin.

I again moaned slightly, the warmth of her hand hitting me in full force. It was indescribable, having never been touched by the one being that holds your heart the way Isabella owned me.

She smiled a bit, I surmised at my reaction to her touch, and retracted her hand to place in her lap. She looked down at her hand, and then back at me again.

"You're cold." She said it as a matter-of-fact type of statement, as though she were making a simple observation. She didn't find my temperature to be frightening, merely curious.

"Yes." I kept my answer simple, giving her a chance to ask me anything she wished; I would tell her anything.

I expected her to ask me why, but she instead surprised me by changing the subject.

"You've been coming to me since I was very young. Each night? In my dreams? It was you."

She wasn't asking. It was a statement.

"Yes," I answered, keeping it simple, as though she might bolt at any moment if she became overwhelmed.

She looked at me, her eyes becoming glossy in the reflection of the fire. Her bottom lip quivered, and I suddenly felt alarm, as though something wasn't right.

I watched her bring her hand to her face, taking a finger into her mouth and biting a fingertip. She inhaled a shaky breath, and to my despair, tears began to drop from her eyes onto her shirt; the sound of the liquid hitting the cotton was like thunder, echoing loudly in my ears.

I crept closer to her, kneeling on both knees now, my chest pressing into the arm of the chair. She was not afraid, but something else was happening that I couldn't decipher.

It was frustrating, as I wanted to do something, but felt helpless as to what.

She closed her eyes and smiled, wiping the tears from her lashes and looking back down at me.

It was then that I knew this might be too much for her, and perhaps I should leave her alone for a while. Everything inside me protested leaving her side, leaving her in this state, but I felt it was only proper for me to offer her time and space from me.

With a heavy heart, I clutched the arm of the chair, only inches from her body and offered.

"Shall I leave you? It appears that I've upset you, and I cannot bear to see you cry -"

"No," she said forcefully, her hand automatically clutching at my arm. She let go after a moment, and gripped the armrest, her hand almost touching my skin.

"I've wanted so badly to know you were real, to one day see you...please don't.." she trailed off, her eyes imploring me to stay.

I smiled at her, wanting to laugh at the absurdity she couldn't possibly be aware of. I could never leave her. I would never be able to walk away from her again, to be satisfied with only speaking to her in her sleep.

I wanted more.

"May I?" I asked, lifting my arm and motioning my hand towards her face. I wanted to touch her wet cheek, to feel her tears on my skin, to offer some comfort.

She shook her head ever so slightly in affirmation, a slight smile breaking across her lips. This made me smile in return, and I gently wiped my thumb across her soft, warm cheek.

My lips parted in amazement at the feel of her wet cheek, having never felt anything like it. She was amazing. The fleeting thought passed through my head, wondering if simply her cheek could feel this incredible, how the rest of her would feel.

Her warm breath on my wrist redirected my thoughts, and I slowly let my hand fall from her face. Resting my arms again on the armrest, I simply gazed at her, unable to hide the enchantment on my face.

We said nothing for a while, only breaking eye contact occasionally to marvel at each others features, which seemed to captivate us both equally.

I said the words to her that I'd been thinking so many times this evening already. She needed to know.

"Isabella, I will never leave." My fingers inched closer to hers, my eyes holding hers as I touched her arm, gently stroking her soft skin reassuringly.

Bumps began to spread on her arm, signaling to me that she was growing cold. I reached out slowly and pulled the blanket back over her lap, and over her arms.

Neither of us said anything more for a while, content to simply be close to the other. I made no more moves to touch her, and she seemed content to look at me; so we remained this way for an unknown amount of time.

The fire crackled in front of us, providing a soothing background noise to fill the silence, which was neither awkward nor uncomfortable.

It was as though we were saying many things without speaking a single word, just looking at one another. It was extravagant, exciting, and completely fulfilling.

BPOV

He was staring at me, gazing at me as though I were the most beautiful, fascinating woman in the world. He made me feel this way without words, without song.

He was beautiful beyond words. His voice in my dreams had long ago cemented him in my thoughts, my heart, and my soul. I loved him before I even saw him, and now that he was here...kneeling before me...

I felt complete, whole.

I saw in his eyes more than I could even put into words. There was so much adoration and love in them, shining from within him...for me.

If I were to die tomorrow, there was nothing else that I would have wished for, nothing else I'd trade for everything in my life up until tonight.

I was now complete, no matter what my future held for me. If I had any say, however, there would never be a me without him. I would go where he goes and never look back.

He was still gazing at me, his beautiful green eyes sparkling with the light of the flames dancing across his irises.

His beautifully sculpted face was gorgeous, regal somehow. His burnished auburn hair was a bed head if I'd ever seen one. It was effortlessly sexy.

His nose was strong, pointed somewhat, and perfect.

His lips looked inviting, and his jaw was strong and defined.

He was breathtaking.

When I'd touched his face, his skin was cold, colder than humanly possible, even in the winter. Somehow, in this moment it didn't matter. It didn't matter to me how this all was even possible, or what everything would mean tomorrow.

All that mattered was here and now, right in front of me.

He was here.

He'd come for me, finally. Then, he swore he wouldn't be leaving just as fast as he'd appeared. My relief was probably desperately obvious, but I didn't care. I wanted him to know.

As intense as it had all been, I could feel it wearing on me as I grew sleepy. I would fight it as long as I could, but perhaps he'd follow me to my room so I could lie down.

"Will you come with me? I need to lie down, but I don't want you to go." I searched his face, waiting impatiently for his reassurance that he would stay.

He seemed amused by something and laughed quietly to himself.

"I will come with you, and I told you, I'm not going anywhere: not tonight, not tomorrow."

I felt my cheeks flush as he seemed a little more cheeky, perhaps a bit of his true personality beginning to break through a bit. The way he'd just laughed somehow had caused my body to sit up and take notice.

As I began to stand, he himself rose and stepped back, giving me space. I left my book in the chair, as I wouldn't be needing any fictitious characters to keep me company tonight. I had something better in front of me than any author could create.

I left the blanket behind and began walking towards my room, as he motioned for me to go first. I could feel him behind me, and my heartbeat increased considerably at the excitement, knowing he was so close to me.

Pushing open my door, I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to my waist, propping myself up with my pillows a bit.

He stood in the doorway, still looking at me as though Helen of Troy herself was lying in this bed. I smirked and shook my head a bit, still not understanding what this magnificent man was thinking as he was looking at me this way.

Pointing at the chair beside the bed, I asked him to sit by me. I watched as he slowly walked into the room. He was tall, muscular with a slender build, and completely handsome. He gracefully sat in the chair, before standing again and pulling it closer to the bed.

He sank into the chair again, satisfied with its proximity to me, and hung his arms over the armrests as he continued to smile at me. His legs open wide, he looked comfortable now, unlike in the other room when he was kneeling beside me.

I looked down at my hands and self-consciously examined my fingernails, trying to decide what to say to the man of my dreams, literally.

I'd been dying to meet him for years, wanting to say so much to him. And now? Where to begin.

I decided the most obvious place to start would be with the most basic question yet to be asked by myself, and go from there.

"May I ask what your name is?" I looked at him as he smiled a dazzling smile, the first one yet.

It made my heart flutter, and I felt myself flush again. He certainly had a powerful effect on me. Thoughts flashed through my mind in that moment about what other effects he could have on me.

"Edward, my name is Edward" he answered. He leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, still studying me closely.

_Edward._ Finally, after all these years; not only did I have a name, but he was here with me.

"It fits you," I smiled, eliciting a grin from him.

"Isabella fits you as well. It is the most beautiful name I've ever heard."

His words made my heart swell, and I had to look away momentarily as a wave of shyness hit. I studied my hands again, as I did when I was nervous. I always pretended to study the back of my hand, my nails, anything until it passed.

Suddenly, my next question, however silly, popped into my head.

"Did you stock the pantry before I arrived? With my favorite English biscuits and everything else in there?" I looked up from my hands to find him looking at me intently.

"Yes. I arranged for everything for your comfort to be brought here, including plenty of firewood for the winter. Your grandmother used to arrange these things, but I observed everything that you preferred and set it to memory. I knew one day you would return."

I thought for a moment at what he had just said, about knowing I would return.

"Do you...live here too?" I asked, unsure of how to phrase it delicately. I already knew the answer, but wanted to hear him speak. His voice was no longer in my dreams, but here, right in front of me.

He laughed to himself, running his hand through his hair atop his head, making me want to run my fingers through it again.

"Yes, I live here as well. I've lived here for many years."

I looked at him carefully, trying to gauge his age. He didn't look much older than myself, and my grandmother had never mentioned him living here. I'd never seen him here in all my summers of visiting, neither.

"Years, hmm?" I bit my bottom lip as I hesitated to ask him his age. To some, it was considered rude, but under the circumstances, I decided we'd passed 'unconventional' a long time ago. "How old are you?"

He gazed at me intently for a moment, looking as though he were thinking about something hard.

"17." He looked at me, and everything about his expression told me he was being completely serious.

"17? You can't be younger than me. That's impossible. I already know you're the one whose voice I've been hearing in my sleep since I was a little girl..."

"My age is 17, I assure you. I wouldn't lie to you, Isabella."

The wheels were turning in my head as I thought about the supernatural end of the thing between us, and somehow, things began to become glaringly apparent. Some things didn't add up, didn't seem possible.

"Okay, 17 then. Can I ask you another question?"

"Anything," he smiled, scooting the chair closer to the bed. "Is this alright?"

I nodded and took a deep breath. _Here goes._

"How long have you been 17?" I said hurriedly, unsure of his reaction to my blunt question.

His smile faded and he slowly sat back in the chair, folding his hands in his lap, still meeting my gaze. Without any expression on his face, he studied me searchingly.

"Isabella, anything you ask me, I will tell you. I want no secrets between us. I value you too much for there to be anything but honesty between us. I will answer your question if it is what you want. Do you still want an answer to your question?"

His seriousness and candor took me by surprise, as the brevity of the question sank in. It was obviously something he was concerned about speaking about.

I didn't hesitate in my wish to know the answer, as nothing he could tell me would change this thing between us, whatever it was. He completed me, and I'd known it for many years now. He obviously felt the same.

"Yes."

"Very well." He didn't so much as blink as he answered me.

My eyes flickered to his lips as they parted, and my breath hung on his words.

"Awhile."

I sucked in my breath at his first admission, confirming what I already knew. There was something special about him, obviously, to have spoken to me, called to me...not to mention how cold his skin was.

"Okay, thank you for being honest with me."

He broke into a smirk and shook his head.

"That's it? You're grateful I was honest with you? Have you no sense of self-preservation to ask me just exactly what that means? To ask me what I am? To ask me why?"

"I don't fear you, Edward, and I don't care what you are. And 'why' is irrelevant."

_Let him think on that for a while_, I smugly thought.

He didn't disappoint. He pursed his lips and looked almost confused.

"Would you rather I was fearful of you?" I asked tersely.

He leaned forward again, looking a bit taken aback.

"Of course not," he sputtered, "I would never harm you, Isabella. It would hurt me if you feared me. I'm simply surprised that you aren't experiencing a normal, human reaction."

_Human reaction._ I filed that comment away for future reference. Another night, perhaps, but not tonight. Tonight, I was too tired for anything deeper than this. I would need my wits about me to keep up with any major revelations.

"Well, this is anything but normal Edward. I think we left normal at the doorway."

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. His brow furrowed as he looked as though he were concentrating, and then he burst out laughing.

"What?" I had no idea that what I'd said would be humorous to him, but his laugh was infectious. I couldn't help but laugh with him. "What?" I asked again, as he calmed again.

"Uh, nothing, it's..." and he chuckled again, obviously amused.

It was then that I noticed how his eyes crinkled as he smiled widely. Even when he laughed, he was devastatingly handsome. I became distinctly aware of how difficult it was to think around him, especially when my body was making its own needs felt.

"Isabella, you look tired. How about tomorrow you ask me anything you wish, and tonight -"

"No" I interrupted, not wanting him to leave, not wanting to do anything but just look at him, sleep be damned.

"Isabella," he said firmly, standing from his chair.

My mouth went dry when he stood, with that tone of voice. It was arousing, to say the least. I scrunched down into my pillows, no longer sitting upright.

He stood next to the bed and gestured beside me.

"May I?" He was asking to sit beside me, on the bed. Oh God...

"Please." I was sure my dry mouth wasn't helping my voice any.

As he sat down beside me and his weight depressed the bed, I became painfully aware of the effect he was having on me. I was breathing harder, inconsistently. I had never had a man in my room before, let alone sitting next to me on my bed.

His lips turned up into a sexy half-smile as his eyes burned into mine.

"Would you like me to stay here with you while you sleep, so that you will know that I mean it when I say I'm not going anywhere?" His hands were resting on his thighs, but my eyes were flickering between his eyes and his hands, wondering what they would feel like on my body.

My gaze darted upward to his face, to those lips. My God, I had never wanted to be kissed so badly in my entire life. What would he think if he knew that I'd never even kissed a man before?

He was all I'd thought about for as long as I could remember. There had never been a desire for anyone else in school, not even out of curiosity.

He was all I thought about, what I anxiously awaited each day – the time when I would fall asleep and be in his presence, his voice washing over me, comforting me, completing me.

"Isabella?" His voice startled me, as I must have been completely ignoring whatever he'd just said to me.

"Yes?" My cheeks were burning, I could feel it. I hated when I blushed; it was impossible to suppress.

"Are you alright? You were far away from here for a moment." He looked curious, concerned even.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" I would have been embarrassed, had it not been for his amused expression. He had a way of distracting me from being distracted. _Incredible_.

"You are very tired, Isabella. You didn't want to go to sleep, but you need your rest. I asked if you would like me to stay here with you tonight. I will stay if you ask me to, but I will go if you'd like."

His eyes searched me, almost beseeching me to ask him to stay. It was amazing to me that he was as enamoured with me as I was with him.

"I don't want you to go. I feel like, if I close my eyes, you're going to disappear. I don't want to wake up and you be gone."

I watched as he brought his hand near mine, and ever so lightly, rubbed the side of my hand with his finger. He looked down at our hands, barely touching, and then back up again.

"I will never leave. I give you my word. I will always be here when you wake."

He sensed my reluctance still yet to close my eyes and give in to sleep, because he became more persuasive.

"Isabella, I don't have the strength to...stay away from you anymore." His gaze was intense, saying so much without saying anything aloud.

"Oh," was all I managed to say, completely speechless at his declaration.

His fingers continued to lightly brush against my hand, as his touch sent tingles down a nerve in my arm, passed throughout the length of my body, and ended with a distinct throbbing between my legs.

I shifted a bit in the bed, trying to shake the feelings he was awakening in my body. They were foreign to me, not having ever been interested in anyone but _him,_ his voice, his presence.

_Just Edward. It had only ever been Edward. _

"Do you want me to stay?" His body was close enough to reach out and touch, and I knew he would let me. But something told me if I did that, there would be no stopping what would happen next. My inexperience was too much of an issue with me to even deal with that possibility tonight.

"Will you stay?" I asked, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt. It wasn't that I didn't believe him when he assured me he would be here when I woke each morning. I had just been waiting for so long for this moment, that it was immensely hard to let go of it for a few hours.

"I will stay. I'll sit right here in this chair, if you'd like, or I could stand somewhere else."

"Don't be silly, you wouldn't want to stand somewhere for hours. The chair would be much more comfortable."

Something about this amused him, and he merely replied, "I'll be fine."

He stood and pulled the chair even closer to the bed, so that when he sat back down, his knees touched the mattress.

"I will be right here, in this very place when you wake in the morning. You can trust me, Isabella. I won't do anything ungentlemanly."

It was my turn to look amused, probably to his confusion.

"I don't think that's a concern of mine. I'm glad you're staying."

He watched me with a softness in his expression as I fixed my pillows and snuggled under the covers, settling in for sleep.

My eyes stayed partly open as I let the warmth build under the covers, relaxing me and rendering me even closer to sleep. I silently met his gaze, feeling my lids growing heavy.

"Close your eyes, love." His voice was soft, just like in my dreams.

"Will you talk to me? Like you did before? I'd like to go to sleep to the sound of your voice."

"Of course. Now, close your eyes." He spoke gently, reverently, and I did as he asked. My eyes closed, and sleep seemed inevitable.

"When you were younger, I would sit here, in this very chair." His voice was low, calm, comforting. I kept my eyes closed, and let his voice carry me where it wanted.

"I would watch over you as you slept. Sometimes, you would have bad dreams. You would talk in your sleep, move around, and even reach your hand out.

"Those nights that you had a dream, I would take your hand. You would sigh, and your bad dream would go away. I was able to comfort you, and that made me happier than I had ever been."

I slipped my hand out from under the covers and let my arm lay over the edge of the bed. I opened my hand, stretching my fingers out.

I felt his cool hand envelop mine, and then the other wrap around, sandwiching my hand in his. A smile spread across my face, and I mumbled his name as I drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

As I start this chapter, I have to tell you just how lame I am. My husband is out of town this weekend, and I happened to notice driving by one of our theaters today that New Moon is again playing in the older one. Hmmmm....so my warped little mind starts whispering to me the rest of the way home, "you know you want to". So yeah, I went and watched it again later tonight. I suppose 3 times isn't really outrageous, right? Oh, and on my playlist (link is on my profile) there is a song called "Amazed" by Lonestar. It's not the country version, it's the mainstream version. This song may have been overplayed, but it says every single thing he's thinking as he stares at her in her sleep this night. Hint, hint, take a listen to set the mood!

Chapter 6

EPOV

Holding her soft warm hand between my two cold ones, I could not have pictured it would be so easy when I finally revealed myself to her. There had been no coaxing, no fear, no anger, no rejection...only curiosity and an obvious charge in the air.

She needed time to process everything, sure, but she wanted me to touch her more than I had. I could hear her heart nearly fly out of her chest each time I smiled at her, or came closer.

It was a beautiful sound, the sound of my everything, thumping in a steady rhythm even now. Her breathing was slow and deep, her sleep peaceful.

I watched her eyes move beneath her lids, telling me that she was in deep REM sleep. It was fascinating to watch her sleep.

She'd never snored, as humans were prone to do. Instead, she talked in her sleep. I was sure she would be mortified to know the things she'd said to me over the years.

She'd told me as a young girl about a cat named Sherlock Holmes, and how he disappeared. She was fretting in her sleep, unable to find him. In a matter of a couple of mornings, she awoke to a sleeping kitten lying next to her.

She'd been beside herself with joy, and I'd hardly been able to contain my own at being able to make her happy. After she went home, Marie gave me a scolding about having to take care of the cat in Isabella's absence, but I saw right through her. She was touched at my gesture.

The way to a woman's heart is through her mother, her father, grandmother, etc. I'd been told before by Esme. Her and Alice had given me much advice over the years as I waited for Isabella to become a woman.

I was grateful for their meddling, even though I'd protested weakly at each sound bite of advice. I had never loved anyone in my entire existence before this amazing woman sleeping in front of me. I had been alone, the only company being my 'family'.

So I felt I was well-prepared in the ways of handling this all-important delicate creature. She was everything to me, and I would somehow spend the rest of her existence loving her.

She spoke again as my mind was wandering, but it was unintelligible. She quieted again and resumed her steady deep breathing.

This used to be my time with her, and now it felt odd to observe her sleeping without actually reaching out to her in her sleep.

I would not again unless she asked me to. I had been warned not to smother her, and at Alice's threat of bodily harm, I was to give her time to herself. Sounds easy, but when all I want to see, taste, touch, smell is in front of me....I want to wrap myself in her and never come up for air.

Alice assured me that Isabella could become overwhelmed at my intense need for her, especially in the beginning. I heeded her words dutifully.

I had been grateful for everyone's support, expecting when Alice told everyone about Isabella that they'd chastise me for finding a soul mate in a human; as if I had any choice. Even if I were a bird and Isabella were a fish in the sea, I would have found a way to love her.

Of course, it wasn't so far from the truth. My existence was maintained by feeding off of the very thing that coursed through her veins. I had not been tempted by human blood for decades, instead surviving off of animals instead.

Consuming her blood had never crossed my mind.

Consuming her body, now that was a very different story. Glancing from her sleeping face, my eyes took in her hourglass silhouette underneath the covers. The way her upper body curved inwards, narrowed, and then swelled upwards over her hips was like looking at a painting in the Louvre.

It was hard to take my eyes from one splendor and admire another. How could you possibly leave the Mona Lisa to view the other similarly important pieces of art?

I leaned forward and laid my cheek to the back of her hand, resting in mine. Her warmth was comforting, her scent intoxicating. I gently kissed her hand, lingering there for a moment as I savored the first time my lips had ever touched her skin.

It was as though something hot was racing through my body, going straight to my groin.

I groaned and released her hand, momentarily needing to control my impulses. She trusts me to simply be here with her, not to be tempted to touch her further.

I sat back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration, waiting for the urges to pass. I am what I am, and it takes focus and restraint to suppress the desires I have for her.

After a short time, my lust subsided enough to open my eyes and look at her again.

She was so peaceful, just lying there. I couldn't help but wish for the day to come that I would be lying beside her as she slept. She would ask me to; I needed that much from her.

She began mumbling again, only this time her breathing was different, erratic. I leaned forward as I recognized at once that her dreams were no longer pleasant. Smoothing the hair from her face, I whispered her name.

She quieted some, but her brows were still furrowed, her pretty lips still open as she spoke words I could not quite decipher.

"Isabella, it's alright. You're safe." This time I spoke above a whisper, and immediately noticed her heart rate decrease and her breathing slow as she calmed.

I ran my hand down her head, along her long brown hair, hoping to give her some sort of comfort. With my free hand, I again held her outstretched hand over the edge of the bed.

She began to stir a bit, and I looked at the bedside clock. It read 2:14am. I continued to smooth her hair and speak quietly to her, hoping she would be able to sink back into a restful sleep. As much as I would love to look into her lovely eyes right now, I couldn't be so selfish. She had human needs.

My pants pocket began to vibrate and buzz, and I gently laid her hand back down on the bed to get my phone, before it disturbed her sleep.

Pulling it out and glancing at the lit up number on the screen, I was surprised to see it was my brother Emmett, instead of Alice.

I rose from the chair and quickly walked into her bathroom, halfway closing the door to keep my voice from waking her.

"Yeah." I answered quietly, but briskly.

"Nice, bro. I haven't spoken to you in like two months and this is how you answer? Yeah? What crawled up your ass?"

"Not now, Emmett. Isabella is sleeping. I'd rather not wake her, if it's all the same to you."

"So leave the room," he said flippantly, as though the solution were just as simple as that.

"I told her I wouldn't leave tonight; I gave her my word. What's up?"

"Edward, are you pussy whipped already? Alice said you'd meet Isabella tonight, and, yeah well, we're all kind of wondering how it went?"

I pinched my nose and leaned up against the wall, wanting very badly to smash my fist into his hulking skull right this minute.

"Emmett, I know damn good and well Alice already saw how things 'went'. Did you really need a play by play?"

"Fuck dude, please tell me she's not frigid, because you really gotta get laid. Seriously. Your balls are totally gonna fall off at this rate. What's it been, fifteen years?"

"You know it has. The days of taking out my needs on someone random are over. And the first part of that last sentence is none of your business."

"Fine, fine," he conceeded. I was being a bit sharp with him. We used to be rather close, so I eased up on him a bit.

Pulling the door open just enough to see her still frame lying in the bed and hearing her steady heartbeat again, I began to relax a bit.

"So what's new with you?" I asked with genuine interest, and he happily switched gears back into 'annoying Emmett' with ease.

"Uh, dude, I have got to talk to you. There's some shit brewing with Alice's visions. It involves your girl, Bella."

"Isabella," I corrected, "and what do you mean it concerns her?"

"Alice says she'll fill you in, but she's found her mate, dude. She is as certain as a bear shits in the woods. I kid you not, dude, this is heavy. She's like flittering around the place, bouncing off the damn walls. Too bad you aren't here to witness Alice in all her glory...and it's a human."

I chuckled a bit, surprised at this little tidbit of information, and happy for Alice at the same time. If she'd found what I'd found, the poor unsuspecting guy wasn't gonna know what hit him. Thoughts of Alice taking her own advice and not scaring the poor fellow was entertaining. I knew it would be the perfect opportunity to rub it in a bit.

"A human, huh? Well, it's his funeral," I said jokingly.

"Wow, you do sound happy. When do we get to meet the lovely Bella?"

I started to answer, when I heard her stirring.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, gotta go." I hung up the phone and slid it back into my pocket, making a mental note to call Alice as soon as possible to give her my congratulations. It was a very big deal if my kind every found their soul mate.

Many were simply content to be with another of our kind for purely sexual reasons, while barely being able to tolerate them otherwise.

It was actually rare for my kind to fancy a human, let alone love a human. Most of us steered clear of humans altogether for obvious reasons.

Walking to her bedside, I sat down in the chair as her eyes fluttered open a crack.

"You were gone," she mumbled sleepily, wiping the hair out of her face.

"Yes, I had to take a call. I was only a few steps away." I scooted my chair closer to the bed again and looked into her striking mahogany eyes, staring back at me.

"Would you sit by me?" she asked, surprising me. I tried to seem as though it were any ordinary request, though inside I thrilled she already wanted me to be closer to her.

"Of course," I said cordially, giving her a half smile as I stood, waiting for her to indicate where I could sit.

"What?" she asked, looking embarrassed.

"Tell me where I may sit, Isabella." I flashed her a wide grin, eliciting a rosy flush from her cheeks. Her heartbeat also increased a bit, betraying her thoughts.

She put her hand on the bed next to her, on the other side of her. _Shit_...I had assumed she meant for me to sit beside her on the bed, not lie next to her on the bed.

My face gave nothing away as I walked to the other side of the bed. Staying on top of the quilt, I positioned myself beside her, leaving a gap between our bodies.

Once I settled in, folding my arms across my chest, I had to admit it was easier than I thought to control myself. Perhaps I had more control than I thought.

She positively beamed at me, as though my physical presence next to her was the greatest gift in the entire world I could have given her.

"Better?" I asked, smiling down at her sweet face, finding myself growing more and more attached to her physical presence my very own self.

"Much." Her eyes flickered between us to where our bodies weren't touching, and then flickered back to mine. Before I could even anticipate what she was thinking, she was rolling onto her side towards me, and laying her head on my chest.

I quickly raised my arms, unsure of what she was doing, and where I should put them. I sort of levitated them above me, wanting very much to allow my arm to rest on her back, where it would seem to fit naturally.

She obviously wanted to be close to me, so perhaps it would be wise to stop treating her as if she might bolt from the room. It was obvious she wanted to be near me, and I made the decision to go with the flow, as Emmett says.

I rested my arm around her shoulder, and she immediately snuggled closer. Snuggled? Goddamnit, Alice. She told me I should give Isabella lots of snuggling, and laughed when I'd asked her just what in the hell 'snuggling' was.

So, I relaxed and allowed myself to touch her without reserve, to slowly rub my hand along her upper arm. It was heavenly. It felt amazing, and I couldn't imagine how I could ever deny her anything.

I would die for her, I knew this as sure as I knew myself.

"I like this," she said softly, her warm breath against my cotton shirt, covering my chest. Even her breath made my skin hyper-sensitive. I'd just had my first hit, and I was hooked.

"I like this too, very much."

That was the understatement of the year. Somehow, 'I want you to stay here with me and never leave my sight' seemed like a bit much right now.

I lowered my lips to her head and kissed the top of her head, relishing the scent of her hair. It smelled like sunshine, though it had been cloudy since she'd arrived.

She hummed and reached her arm across my stomach and almost gripped me, as though she couldn't get close enough.

After a few moments of quiet, I could her her breathing slow, becoming deeper as well. She was beginning to drift off to sleep again.

It pleased me that she trusted me, and felt so content as to fall back to sleep.

My phone buzzed again in my pocket, and I silently cursed Alice for pestering me tonight. Isabella stirred on my chest, her hand gripping me tighter, and snuggling further into my chest until she was again comfortable.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that it was a text, from Alice of course. I opened my phone and gently rubbed her back slowly, hoping she'd be able to get some rest while I answered Alice.

I pulled up her message and had to smile when I read it. Sometimes she makes it impossible to be mad at her. I typed out a quick reply one handed and hit send. Once it was successfully sent, I powered down my phone and tossed it on the bed beside me.

No more calls, no more texts. Tonight was all Isabella's.

The longer I stroked her back, the deeper her breathing became. Within a few minutes, she was sound asleep, peaceful and warm. I pulled the quilt up around her back and stilled my hand on her back.

This was the best night of my existence, and yet I knew it was going to get even better.

I wanted to touch her, to feel her skin, to touch her where I knew no one had. I wanted to love her, to please her. I had been with many of my kind before Isabella, but no human, and no one since the day I first laid eyes on her.

It had been more than worth the wait. She was exquisite, and she was mine.

For a while we simply remained lying in the same position, until some time later when she moved around in her sleep.

Without warning, she slid her arm down until her elbow was resting between my legs, her hand hanging over my hip.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck...._

I forced myself to think of Emmett naked, which I'd been subjected to on occasion as I interrupted him and his latest interest. It didn't help.

I couldn't come up with anything worse, and I needed to do something or my hands were going to want to touch her. Even though I suspected she would give in to me even tonight, I wanted her first time to be when she knew she loved me, something special.

There were certain human rites of passages that were special, that had been pounded into my head by Alice more times than I cared to recall. It was something she'd stressed more than anything.

Under no circumstances was I to make the first move; Isabella would let me know when she was ready, and any interference from me to 'speed things along' would affect the experience for her, Alice had said.

So I needed to do something. I picked up my phone and powered it up, impatiently waiting to be able to send a message. Finally I was able to send Alice a desperate text message.

_Need your help, w d I do? - E_

_Elaborate – A_

_snuggles have begun, I is sleeping on me. Arm just moved. - E_

_Goddamnit Edward I told you...its her first night with you and shes sleeping on you? Disappointed. - A_

_Not like that..she asked...no fnny biz promise – E_

_Okay, you're off the hook. So her arm moved? What's the problem? Just move her arm where it was and be gentle. Dont wake her up. - A_

_Kthx – E_

_You are a piece of work...call me tomorrow! - A_

_K – E_

_Oh, and Edward? Stop being so skiddish. She's not a little girl anymore. She already loves you. Learn to read her so that you won't doubt yourself. Okay, now I'm going. 3 A_

I powered down my phone again and set it beside me, focusing my attentions back on the problem at hand. As I looked at her arm, lying on my growing erection, Alice's words rang true.

I had to stop doubting my every move with her and just pay attention to her signals. I knew her possibly better than anyone, even her own parents. I could do this.

_I got this._

Sliding my free hand under her arm and doing my best to limit the friction to myself, I gently lifted her arm and brought it back up to my stomach. She didn't even stir, and I stupidly chided myself for being such a pussy.

Perhaps this night lying here was good for me. I had a chance to think, to react and interact with her in a safe situation. Her being asleep gave me chances to touch her, to caress her, just to gain confidence that I could control myself.

This was a good thing, I think.

I went back to stroking her back and even allowed my free hand to rest over her arm on my stomach. Ever so often, just to build my tolerance to contact with her even more, I would allow my hands to roam elsewhere on her arms, her back, her shoulders, even her face.

It felt good, and after a time I felt that I was certain I could handle myself. It wasn't long until she again moved her arm in her sleep back down, resting over my crotch.

I repeated the process earlier, and held her closer, putting my hand on top of hers. It was almost a reaction that I didn't even have to think about, much less panic over.

Now, I just needed morning to get here, so we could talk and get to know little things about each other, grow closer. I settled in and let my mind wander, waiting for the morning rays.

BPOV

The first thing I was aware of was a stiff neck when I woke to sun coming in my window across the room...a very stiff neck. It felt like I had slept at a 90 degree angle against a stone wall or something.

I groaned and moved my hand to rub my neck, when I realized his arm was lying over mine. I smiled and opened my eyes, grasping him closer to me.

"Well, good morning. Did you sleep well?" His voice was sultry, and it sounded like he was smiling.

"I feel like I slept hard, so yeah, I guess I slept well..." I tilted my neck, working out the kinks a bit. "It feels like I slept against a brick wall, though."

He chuckled, shaking my head against him slightly.

"That's because you did. I wondered how you could possibly be comfortable on my chest, but you hardly moved all night."

I slid my hand out from under his arm and poked at his chest with a finger. It felt solid as a rock. There was no give, and I couldn't stop myself from poking him again, this time lower in the abdominal area. It felt the same, solid, and without any give.

"You are a bit, umm...solid" I lamely finished. What was he?

"Would you like me to massage your neck until it feels better? I promise to behave myself." I looked up at him and propped myself up on an elbow. He was smiling a dazzling smile.

"That might be a good idea, thank you." What happened to the reserved Edward from last night? This morning, he seemed more confident, more relaxed. Maybe he enjoyed me lying on him last night as much as I had.

I sat up, moving my neck back and forth, wincing a bit as the pain was surprisingly biting me good.

He opened his legs on the bed and held out his arms for me, and I crawled over to him. Turning around and sitting cross-legged, I couldn't not think about the fact that my lower back was now up against his...yeah.

"Lean forward just a bit" he suggested, his hands resting on the outsides of my thighs as I scooted forward a bit. _Definitely gotten past the shyness last night._

"Like this?" I asked, trying to not be embarrassed at how much his hands were affecting me right now.

"That's good. Now relax your shoulders and lean back into my chest...like that, just let your back...put all your weight on me, Isabella. I can take it, trust me. You weigh nothing."

It felt like I was sitting with my back against a hard wall. I puzzled over this as I felt his hands on my collarbone area, his thumbs on my neck muscles. He worked, gently at first, then using a bit more pressure as he went along.

He was very good, and I couldn't help but feel a strange pang of jealousy. How did he know how to give such a good massage?

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, hedging around my question a bit.

"Of course, anything you ask I will tell you. I will never lie to you, Isabella." His voice sounded soft and reverent, as though he was putting so much love behind the words.

"How are you so good at this? I mean, this really feels good."

He chuckled again and I felt something ghosting along my left shoulder, sending pangs of desire raging through my body. "Carlisle gave me lessons just for you. They haven't met you, and already they love you."

The sensation on my shoulder became firmer, and my breath hitched as I realized it was his lips on my shoulder. There was no warmth, but his touch felt like fire to my skin.

"Who-ho's Carlisle?" My traitor body was making it difficult to enunciate properly.

"He's like a father to me. He found me many years ago and showed me how to be a good person, gave me a home, and guidance."

I said nothing, hoping he would continue, as my shoulders relaxed under his skillful hands.

"He instructed me in massage over different parts of the body. He'll be pleased to know that I'm doing well."

"Oh, you're doing more than 'well'...so good..." I trailed off, almost groaning at the relief I was feeling as the pain went away in my stiff neck muscles. His touch was just right; not too light so as to tickle, and not so hard as to hurt me.

"I like to hear that. I want to make you feel good, always."

Oh, I did not miss the innuendo. I think I just moaned.

"Feeling better now?" he asked, his fingers easing up a bit.

I nodded, not trusting my traitorous body to cooperate yet.

"Good. Lean back," he whispered in my ear, his hands on my upper arms guiding me to lie back against him.

Oh my God this was...hot.

He placed his smooth, cool hands on either shoulder and slowly caressed my arm down to my wrists, then back up again. They moved slowly from my shoulders to my neck, back down again, and then repeated the cycle.

It was the most sensuous thing I'd ever felt in my entire life. I could feel the wetness growing between my legs, the ache beginning to throb slightly. It didn't feel like he was seducing me, but merely building intimacy between us.

It was working. Each pass down my arms and up again made me want him so very badly to just divert the slightest bit to maybe the front of my chest, near my collarbones, something closer to where I wanted him the most.

I couldn't expect him to read my mind, so I decided to be bold. On his next pass up to my shoulders, I chickened out. The following time, I placed my hands over his and pulled his fingers downwards, over my collarbones.

I let go, letting him set the pace again, hoping he'd realized I wanted more now.

He didn't disappoint. His hands moved to my neck and up to my earlobes, as he brought his lips to the spot just under my ear and pressed his lips, moving further down my neck as his hands moved down again.

As his fingertips approached my breasts, I felt the throbbing increase exponentially, and my heartbeat as well. I leaned my head back to his shoulder as his hands graced the outer swells of my breasts, avoiding touching them completely.

He began to move them back up, and I bit my lower lip in frustration. He was killing me. This man was killing me.

"Edward," I implored quietly, looking up at his face, intently focused on me at the moment. I tilted my head to the side, still on his shoulder, and licked my lips. I wanted him to kiss me, and as his hands began another downward descent towards my breasts again, I arched my chest toward his hands.

He looked down at me, his gaze flickering from my body to my eyes again.

"Say it again" he demanded quietly, his eyes looking intently into mine, burning with something besides the same lust I was feeling.

"What?" I breathed, as his hands paused on my collarbones, not moving any further.

"My name. It's the first time you've said my name, and I need to hear it again."

I flushed and closed my eyes, shifting closer to him. I could feel his arousal, pressing hard into my lower back, spurring me on even further.

"Edward." I found myself saying his name as though I were breathless, needing him. It came out a bit aggressive, but I couldn't find it in me to care.

His hands again moved lower, and my nipples hardened in anticipation, as he neared. His fingers skirted around them, moving underneath and back around again, before moving back towards my neck.

"Edward," I complained, becoming impatient as he slowly built up to when he would touch me. It was maddening.

"Yes?" he asked, kissing my nose as his hands traced a path up my neck and to my chin.

"I want you to touch me."

"I am touching you, Isabella."

"Please," I groaned, unable to focus on speaking well at the moment. It was overwhelming, the desire I was feeling for him. The ache was building and building, and becoming very uncomfortable.

"Where?" he breathed into my neck as I licked my lips again, wishing he would kiss me.

"My breasts, Edward, touch me," I almost begged. My mind was reeling as I thought of how guarded he was last night physically with me, and now this...he had me begging him, vocalizing what I wanted him to do to me.

I kissed his chin and he growled, turning his head towards me. His hands moved down my chest, slowly and deliciously inching towards my hard nipples, begging for his touch. I arched into his hands as they finally skimmed across them, pebbling even harder.

"You are my life now, Isabella. I will never leave you." With those beautiful words, he bent and touched his lips to each corner of my mouth as his hands gently palmed my breasts, softly stroking his thumb across my rigid nipples.

His lips found mine as he continued to stoke the fire inside me with his hands, now expanding their path towards my abdomen and back up again.

His lips were cool, but it again felt as though every part of me he touched blazed afire. He parted my lips hungrily with his tongue and found mine with authority.

I moaned into his mouth in sheer delight, asking for more, needing more.

I moved my hands from my legs to his inner thighs, sliding them up higher and higher until I reached what I was looking for. He was straining against his pants, but I couldn't reach behind me far enough to do anything about it.

I let my hands slide back to his upper thighs, and kneaded my fingers into him as my lust increased.

One of his hands slid upwards and cupped my chin, breaking our kiss as he moved my neck to the side. He pressed his lips, wet and cool against my throat, placing kisses everywhere.

"We have to stop, tell me to stop..." he said between kisses. It was then that I saw his eyes; they were black as night.

Instead of being afraid, my reaction was quite the opposite. I gripped his thighs even harder and pleaded with him.

"Don't stop. I don't want you to stop."

He growled against my neck in frustration, unable to pull himself away from me. We were both unwilling.

Afraid he would somehow find the strength to stop, I took matters into my own hands and pulled my nightshirt up over my stomach. Taking his hand, I placed it on my bare skin as he groaned loudly and pushed his hand underneath the fabric, palming a bare breast.

It was skin on skin, and I was soaking wet. I wanted this, and he was not going to deny me. He'd told me he wouldn't ever be able to deny me anything.

His other hand slipped down and under the fabric as well, but there wasn't enough room to maneuver well.

Before I knew what had hit me, I heard my shirt ripping open down the front, and felt the air rushing over my skin.

"Better," he grunted against my neck, as his lips slid up to meet mine again.

Before he could stop me, I slid away from his chest and lay down on the bed, his hands and body following me.

He leaned over me and began kissing me again, his tongue teaching me as he went along.

With one arm now underneath my back, his free hand slowly made its way down my stomach. His fingers gently traced a trail from my breast to my belly button, lingering only for a moment. I arched my hips up off the bed, and it drew his attention, beckoning his hand to slide lower, until he reached the cotton lace of my panties.

Something in him tensed, and his lips froze on mine. I tried to guide his hand as I did before, but he was too strong. I couldn't budge him.

I pulled his face away to look at me and his eyes were wild. They were black, deep as the night sky with no moon.

"No," I protested, as he began to pull away from me and lean back, his hand remaining on my stomach.

He said nothing, but simply closed his eyes and still for a moment, the silence deafening. The only sound in the room was my labored breathing, as my heart still pounded in my chest.

"Give me a moment," he said quietly, so quietly I hardly heard him. I lay still for a moment, except to stroke his hand lying on my stomach.

He opened his eyes, and I could see they were not as dark now, but more of a dark, dark brown.

"I'm sorry, but I needed to stop for a moment." He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine for only a moment before pulling away to look at me. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I answered breathlessly. "I want more." I couldn't believe I was ready to beg, but the aching between my legs needed relief, or I feared I might go insane.

He looked down at me for a moment, and then towards the rest of my body, taking me in.

"You're so very beautiful, Isabella. Would you like me to touch you anywhere else?" He brought his gaze back to my lips before locking eyes with me.

I said nothing, instead I threaded my hand through his head of hair and pulled him down to me.

"So beautiful," he whispered into my mouth, kissing my swollen lips like he would never stop.

I tugged on his hand resting on my stomach again, and this time, he let me show him where I wanted to be touched. I guided his hand under the lace fabric and ran my hand along his arm, feeling his muscles flex under my hand as he explored further.

His fingertips inched further down, before he slid his hand from under the fabric. Before I could protest, I felt his hand gently nudging my thighs apart. If it were possible to be anymore turned on, that had just done it.

I moved my legs further apart, opening myself to him. I felt his hand slip beneath the fabric again, sliding downward further. As his fingertips grazed my outer folds, I nearly came unglued.

I groaned and nipped at his lips, earning a hiss from him as he broke his lips away from mine and stopped everything he was doing.

"No biting, Isabella, not yet. I won't be able to control myself if you take it there."

Something in his tone, the promise of this whole thing possibly escalating out of control, only made me certain that I would find out one day what exactly I could do to him, just how far I could push him. I wanted everything, I wanted it all.

He bent down and licked my bottom lip, urging me to do the same. I swiped my tongue along his bottom lip as he growled his approval.

"Very good," he said into my mouth as he claimed me again, his hand slowly exploring me again.

His fingers were cool, but it was anything but unpleasant. The contrast in our temperatures only heightened the sensitivity.

He slipped a long slender finger gently between my folds, grazing my clit with his first pass.

My hips came up off the bed slightly as I voiced my pleasure. He smiled into my lips and repeated the motion, randomly flicking his finger against the engorged bundle of nerves, screaming for his touch.

After a few moments, I felt him slide to my entrance and slowly dip inside of me. I thought him touching the outside of me would drive me out of my mind until that moment. I knew then that I hadn't seen anything yet.

It was like scratching an itch that you hadn't been able to reach all day, but finally getting to. The pleasure reverberated through every nerve in my lower body.

He dipped further inside of me until he met resistence, causing him to pause and insert another finger. It was mildly uncomfortable, but quickly passed as he began to feel inside of me for something.

He broke away from our kiss to watch me intently as his fingers finally found what he was looking for. I knew it the instant he touched the sensitive bumpy area. He curled his fingers inside of me, and my lips fell open in a heady fog of pleasure.

"Oh," was all I managed, as he licked his lips.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his eyes growing darker again.

I nodded, unable to speak. He withdrew his fingers and began to rhythmically stroke my clit, slowly at first and then faster.

I had pleasured myself before, so I knew when I was getting close. I could feel my insides coiling, tensing, almost ready to get my release I so desperately needed.

My breathing was growing louder and I could feel my legs beginning to tremble.

"Open your eyes, Isabella. I want to watch you when I make you feel good."

My eyes flew open and I focused on his, hanging onto his arm for dear life.

"Please don't stop."

"I won't, I promise. Just hold onto me and keep your eyes on me."

"Ungh," I arched my chest higher, craving release that only he could give me.

He slipped his fingers inside me once more and began to curl them against that spot again, and within seconds I was breathing hard and trembling, my nails digging into his skin.

"Edward, Edward," I chanted quietly, my mouth completely dry.

I held onto his gaze as though he were my lifeline, and watched as he swallowed repeatedly, his eyes now pitch black.

"Right there, oh God, Edward..." I shouted as I held his stare, my insides convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rocked me.

After a few seconds, the waves began to subside as I lay spent beneath him. He looked down at me as though he were amazed.

I closed my mouth and smiled up at him, completely satisfied.

"Thank you."

He grinned down at me as he withdrew his fingers from my body, bringing them to his lips.

"May I taste you?" he asked, inhaling my scent with visible approval.

I nodded, biting my bottom lip. I hadn't expected _that._

He slipped his glistening fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes as he groaned.

I hadn't realized I would taste..._good,_ if that's what it was.

"You....amazing. I will taste you again and use my tongue next time, if you'd like."

_Next time._ Oh God, there would be a next time. _Thank God and all that is holy._

"Lie there and don't move. I'm going to run you a bath. It will feel good."

He kissed me on the forehead and pulled the covers over my body, as I stretched out and basked in the afterglow of my orgasm.

I heard water running, and sighed in contentment.

"So a bath will do me good, huh?" I called out to him, missing his voice already.

"Yes, but not as good as me."

I giggled, liking how playful he was, and I very much liked how confident he was this morning.

"Nothing is as good as you, I'm afraid. I think I'm hooked. You're going to have to do that every day now, you know." I bit my lip as I waited to hear what he'd say about my forward confession that I wanted more of the same.

He reappeared in the doorway from the bathroom and walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back and offering me his hand.

"I can do that, and so much more," he said quite seriously, as he slid the ripped nightshirt from my body. I was naked except for my panties, but I didn't feel self conscious like I thought I would. I felt at ease in front of him, worshiped even.

"Let's get you into the tub so I can excuse myself for a bit."

I raised my eyebrows as I looked down, to the problem he still obviously had.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," I facepalmed, feeling crappy I hadn't done anything to relieve his need. If he felt half as frustrated as I was earlier, he definitely needed to excuse himself.

He gently took myhands off my face and pulled me to him, my bare breasts against his chest. It felt like my nook, like this was my safe place. I buried my nose in his chest, my fingers playing with the hair there.

"Don't apologize. This was about you. Perhaps when you grow more comfortable, you'll feel like it, but don't doubt how much I enjoyed doing that to do."

I groaned and laughed into his chest. Reluctantly, I pulled myself away and started for the tub, which was probably almost ready.

"Go take care of yourself and I'll soak in the tub. Just promise me you aren't going anywhere, and I'll be fine."

I felt his cool hand envelope mine as he pulled me back to him and turned me around.

"I promise, and I never break a promise to you Isabella, not for anything. I will always be here."

He kissed my lips and let go of my hand, slowly walking backwards as his eyes wandered over my body.

"Mmmm," he mumbled, shaking his head and walking out of the room.

I grinned like a fool and shed my panties, and sunk down into the tub of just right hot water. I turned the faucets off and leaned my head back against the back of the clawfoot tub.

It did not get much better than this.


End file.
